THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 


Malbone  W.  Graham 


m 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  OLD 
ORDER  IN  EUROPE 


The  Passing  of  the  Old 
Order  In  Europe 


BY 


GREGORY  ZILBOORG 

Secretary  to  the  Ministry  of  Labor  under  the  Kerensky 
Government  in  Russia 


New  York 

THOMAS  SELTZER 

1920 


Copyright,  1920, 
By  Thomas   Seltzer,   Inc. 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 
All  Rights  Reserved 


ITS 


To 

ROMAIN  ROLLAND, 

Friedrich  Foerster, 

Maxim  Gorky, 

and  all  those-  -who  in  the  darkness  of  hatred 

held  fast  their  lights  of  love. 


1521109 


Les  idies  se  use  dans  une  democratie,  d'autant  plus  vite 
qu'elles  se  sont  plus  promptement  propagees.  Comhiens  de 
republicains  en  France  s'etaient,  en  mains  de  cinquante  ans, 
degoutis  de  la  republique,  du  suffrage  universel  et  de  tant  de 
libertes  conquises  avec  ivresse!  Apres  le  culte  fetichiste  du 
nombre,  avec  Voptimisme  heat  qui  avail  cru  aux  saintes 
majorites  et  qui  attendait  le  progrh  humain,  I'esprit  de  vio- 
lence soufflait  I'incapacite  des  majorites  a  se  gouverner  elles- 
memes,  leur  veualite,  leur  veulerie,  leur  basse  et  peureuse 
aversion  de  toute  superiorite,  leur  lachete  oppressive,  soule- 

vaient  la  revolte.  .  .  . 

Romain  Rolland. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  ^^^^ 

Introduction 3 

I    The  Impasse  of  Politics 13 

II    The  Debauch  of  European  Thought   ...  35 

III  The  Morass  of  War 66 

IV  The  Recovery  of  Revolution 91 

V    Revolutionary  Contradictions 125 

VI    Additional  Contemplations 144 

VII    Light  and  Shadows       I73 

VIII    Light   and    Shadows— Continued      ....  198 

IX    Consequences  and  Possibilities 220 


INTRODUCTION 

At  the  moment  I  begin  this  book  I  see  be- 
fore my  eyes  two  pictures. 

I  see  myself  on  a  foggy  afternoon,  some 
time  in  1915,  coming  home  from  the  hospital 
where  I  worked,  and  thinking — as  I  was  al- 
ways thinking, — of  the  wounded  men  who 
were  being  sent  by  thousands  and  thousands 
to  the  city  (Kief)  every  day  from  the 
front.  To  me  the  war  seemed  a  strange 
puzzle,  impossible  to  comprehend.  I  could  not 
understand  the  fighters,  I  could  not  under- 
stand ourselves  who  patched  them  up  and 
sent  them  back  to  fight.  We  were  all  helping 
to  add  to  the  perplexity  of  this  strange  situa- 
tion. We,  Russians,  were  fighting  to  defend 
our  country,  to  help  the  Tsar's  government  to 
win  a  victory;  and  it  was  quite  probable  that 
we  should  later  hear  the  Tsar  say: 

"You  had  been  protesting!  You  had  been 
fighting  against  us  before  the  war!  You  see 
now  how  splendid  a  victory  we  have  won. 
Could  a  bad  government  win  like  this?'* 

3 


4  Introduction 

On  the  other  hand,  not  to  fight  meant  to 
give  up  many  of  our  beloved  ideals  and  hopes 
for  Russia's  ultimate  future — to  turn  her  over 
to  another  autocracy  of  the  same  kind,  but  one 
speaking  a  different  language.  And  yet  the 
enthusiasm  of  our  soldiers  seemed  a  psychologi- 
cal abnormality  which  we  could  not  under- 
stand. 

With  these  same  thoughts  ever  persistent  I 
went  back  to  my  home  this  foggy  afternoon, 
and  found  there  a  tall  soldier,  a  real  giant  of 
the  Semenoff  Imperial  Guard  regiment.  He 
had  come  up  to  say  farewell  to  his  sister,  a  maid 
in  the  household,  before  returning  to  the  front. 
He  had  been  slightly  wounded,  but,  after  a 
quick  recovery,  was  going  back.  He  was  in 
the  midst  of  a  story  of  the  battlefield. 

"You  do  not  see  anything,  even  in  day- 
light," he  was  exclaiming.  "One  would  say 
you  had  lost  your  eyes.  You  do  not  even  see 
him.  You  are  just  going  on,  with  rifle  and 
bayonet — the  firing  sometimes  is  so  strong  and 
the  confusion  so  terrible  that  many  of  our  own 
people  attack  each  other  as  enemies.  All  are 
screaming!'* 

The  tall  soldier  as  he  talked  looked  like  a 
savage  animal.    His  eyes  gleamed  like  globes 


Introduction  5 

of  glass,  with  cruel  lights  in  them.  His  hands 
clenched  into  fists.  His  body  inclined  tensely 
forward.  Seeing  him  one  would  say:  "He  is 
fighting.  He  is  killing  at  this  moment."  He 
continued : 

"Suddenly  there  is  silence" — the  cruel  fire 
died  out  of  his  eyes,  his  fists  unclenched,  his 
body  relaxed — "You  turn  around  and  you  see 
— one  of  our  men  with  a  hand  gone, — another, 
an  Austrian,  with  his  nose  shot  away;  over 
there  lies   a  long-bearded  Jew  with   a  torn 

face "     The  man  stopped  and  began  to 

cry,  like  a  little  ailing  child,  with  great  sobs. 
This  giant  became  suddenly  a  weak,  small,  un- 
happy human  child,  with  an  aching  human 
heart. 

"They  do  not  hate  the  enemy,"  I  said  to  my- 
self. "They  do  not  fight  for  any  reason  ex- 
cept that  they  were  sent  to  fight.  That  is  the 
psychological  mystery  of  our  time,  the  cruel 
enigma  of  our  modern  civilization.  And  we 
thought  there  was  enthusiasm,  that  our  people 
forgot  at  the  moment  of  mobilization  all  their 
sufferings  and  whatever  aspirations  they  had. 
We  find  we  were  mistaken.  Among  all  the 
thousands  of  wounded,  sometimes  mad,  soldiers 
I  met,  I  could  find  none  who  seemed  to  grasp 


6  Introduction 

the  true  significance  of  the  war.  Because  of 
their  diseased  condition  no  test  could  be  relied 
upon.  Here  was  a  strong,  healthy  giant,  a 
man  with  a  human  brain,  a  human  heart.  The 
heart  ached.  The  brain  either  slept  or  was 
hypnotized  by  those  who  did  know  what  they 
were  fighting  for,  but  who  did  know  how  to 
transform  a  human  being  into  cannon  food." 

Perhaps  later  on  humanity  may  be  able  to 
analyze  causes  and  effects  impartially  and  to 
understand  clearly  the  comparative  values  of 
a  soldier's  fists  and  a  soldier's  tears.  That  mo- 
ment was  a  revelation  to  me.  I  felt  for  the 
first  time  since  the  war  began  that  we  were  on 
the  verge  of  a  great  moral  collapse,  the  weight 
and  reach  of  which  we  were  utterly  incompe- 
tent to  estimate. 

The  second  picture  is  this. 

It  is  evening  of  the  first  day  of  the 
Russian  revolution.  At  the  moment  no  one 
is  sure  that  the  revolution  is  real,  that  it 
will  mean  victory.  A  doubt  envelops  us. 
We  had  always  been  taught  and  had  al- 
ways believed  that  in  the  minds  of  the  masses 
of  the  people  the  Tsar  stood  for  a  symbol 
of  holy  power — the  representative  of  God 
on  earth.    We  feared  the  critical  moment  which 


Introduction  7 

would  follow  his  overthrow — feared  it  in  so  far 
as,  in  the  midst  of  our  fighting,  we  were. per- 
mitted to  remember  or  fear  anything.  It  was 
during  this  evening  that,  in  passing  a  corridor 
in  the  palace  of  the  Taurida,  I  was  halted  by 
a  soldier  of  the  Imperial  Guard,  a  man  who 
had  joined  the  revolutionists.  "Comrade,"  he 
said,  "when  will  Kolya  be  brought?"  I  did  not 
understand  and  asked  him  to  repeat  his  ques- 
tion. "Kolya,"  he  said  again,  "when  will  he 
be  brought — Nicholas?"  He  laughed.  Kolya 
is  the  diminutive  of  Nicholas  and  I  got  his 
meaning.  "Very  soon,  be  sure  of  it,"  I  an- 
swered, and  held  out  my  hand.  He  shifted  his 
rifle  to  his  left  hand  and  clasped  my  right 
firmly,  in  friendly  fashion. 

Also,  the  story  about  the  Tsar  was  a  mistake. 
While  we  intellectual  revolutionists  were  fight- 
ing, and  fearing  while  we  fought  relative  to 
what  might  afterwards  evolve  from  the  brain 
of  the  Russian  muzhik  in  his  military  uni- 
form, that  brain  was  already  busy  working  out 
its  own  quiet,  sober,  practical  theories  of  the 
revolution.  We  were  mistaken.  We  needed 
an  enormous  historical  object  lesson  to  prove  to 
us  that  we  were  mistaken. 

And  now,  while  trying  to  put  on  paper  the 


8  Introduction 

story  of  my  experiences  of  the  last  four  or  five 
years;  while  trying  to  analyze  as  best  I  can 
the  struggles  and  troubles  of  which  I  was  a 
witness,  I  cannot  but  remember  well  these  two 
soldiers  who  hnow — indeed,  who  know  more 
perhaps  than  the  best  trained  observers  and 
analyzers.  Therefore  I  see  that  my  task  is 
something  more  than  that  of  writing  a  book  of 
a  purely  academic  character,  not  because  the 
time  is  not  yet  ripe  for  the  writing  of  such  a 
book.  On  the  contrary,  if  an  undertaking  of 
that  kind  were  possible,  'twould  be  most  ad- 
visable and  valuable  in  results.  The  task  I 
have  set  before  myself  is  prompted  by  my  con- 
viction that  in  the  course  of  the  struggles  of 
the  present-day  world,  humanity  has  developed 
a  very  serious  disease.  In  the  pages  of  this 
book  I  shall  try  to  describe  and  define  this  dis- 
ease in  abundant  detail.  For  the  present  I  can 
only  give  a  name  to  it.  The  disease  is  mob 
psychosis.  The  contagion  was  carried  by  the 
war,  by  revolution,  by  political  lying,  by  diplo- 
matic betrayal,  social  disturbances  and  moral 
suppression.  These  are  the  instruments  which 
have  almost  killed  the  individual  lives,  the  very 
personalities,  of  human  beings. 

In  1915  we  had  received  anguished  word  of 


Introduction  9 

warning  from  Remain  Rolland,  who  declared 
that  our  epoch  was  an  epoch  of  mediocrity,  of 
commonplace,  little  average  souls ;  little  hearts, 
which,  by  a  curious  historical  coincidence,  will 
produce  a  great  noise  and  bring  on  great  bloody 
events. 

Great  bloody  events!  Some  years  before, 
while  writing  the  last  pages  of  his  "  Jean-Chris- 
tophe,"  Romain  Rolland  foresaw  them  ahnost 
on  the  very  eve  of  the  war.  Mediocrity  then 
was  also  his  conclusion.  From  the  psychologi- 
cal point  of  view,  mediocrity,  spread  to  this  ex- 
tent throughout  the  world,  means  the  contagion 
of  clamorous,  hazy,  half-ideas,  half-words.  It 
means  that  minds  are  submerged  and  have  lost 
temporarily  their  governing  forces,  their  proc- 
ess of  criticism  and  independent  reasoning. 

Therefore,  again,  it  is  impossible  now  to  ana- 
lyze or  to  explain  scientifically  the  most  serious 
events  of  our  lives  as  long  as  this  disease  con- 
tinues. It  does  not  depend  upon  history.  It 
does  not  even  depend  upon  political  struggle. 
It  depends  purely  upon  our  psychological  re- 
action to  the  disease  itself. 

Only  one  kind  of  book  is  possible  now,  how- 
ever. I  should  call  it  a  half  h^ical  kind.  It 
must  be  a  simple  narrative,  poignant  and  inti- 


10  Introduction 

mate ;  a  revelation  of  the  doubts,  thoughts,  seek- 
ings,  and  aspirations  of  one  who  has  had  an 
opportunity  to  be  somewhat  near  to  the  events 
of  our  days.  It  is  indeed  one's  duty  to  sur- 
render one's  experiences.  A  written  word,  a 
conscious  written  word,  is  a  result  of  criticism 
and  self-analysis :  and  as  such  is  the  most  val- 
uable instrimient  at  the  present  time.  I  should 
like,  furthermore,  to  give  my  book  a  sub-title — 
"A  book  without  quotations" — ^because  I  desire 
to  avoid  authoritative  quotations,  authoritative 
statements.  In  a  period  of  mob  psychosis  it  is 
pernicious  to  use  authorities.  Authorities  jus- 
tified the  inquisition  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury. They  would  justify  the  inquisition 
of  the  twentieth  century.  Each  side  can  find 
in  books  and  essays  the  phrases,  statements, 
and  aphorisms  to  justify  its  own  crimes. 
Lloyd  George  and  Bethmann-Hollweg,  Clem- 
enceau  and  William  the  Second,  Nicholas  the 
Second  and  Balfour,  Wilson  and  Lenin,  all 
quoted,  and  all  were  sure  they  were  right,-^ 
or  made  believe  they  were  sure. 

This  is  a  book  of  simple  contemplations,  a 
rendering  of  sometimes  indefinite  thoughts 
which  obtruded  themselves  many  times  during 
the  experiences  of  the  past  few  years.    To  re- 


Introduction  11 

late  them,  to  give  some  illustrations  of  the 
workings  of  human  brains  and  hearts — this  is 
my  aim  rather  than  the  exploitation  of  prin- 
ciples or  procedures. 

I  have  not  given  in  this  book  an  adequate 
place  to  Russia,  where  I  spent  all  my  life  and 
where  I  gathered  all  my  political,  social,  and 
scientific  experiences.  In  fact,  I  made  a  point 
of  not  doing  so,  notwithstanding  that  Russia 
is  now  the  center  of  general  attention,  a  germi- 
nating field  of  social  and  political  experiment. 
I  have  not  done  this  because  I  think,  and  I  try 
to  make  it  clear  that  Russia  is  only  a  link  in  the 
chain  of  all  present-day  events.  In  her  recent 
past,  in  her  present,  and  in  her  future  she  is 
closely  woven  into  the  general  life  of  the  globe. 
Intellectually,  poHtically,  socially,  she  lives 
with  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  despite  block- 
ades ;  and  the  rest  of  the  world  lives  with  her — 
despite  passport  systems  and  their  restrictions. 

New  York,  March,  1920. 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  OLD 
ORDER  IN  EUROPE 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    IMPASSE    OF    POLITICS 

If  we  examine  closely  the  different  political 
schools  and  philosophic  theories  of  the  last 
twenty-five  or  thirty  years,  we  shall  find  no 
basis  for  them  in  the  accepted  principles  of 
ancient  philosophies.  The  writers  who  hark 
back  to  the  theories  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  and 
try  to  apply  them  to  modern  conditions  are,  of 
course,  always  with  us,  and  it  is  perhaps  san- 
guine to  hope  that  their  habits  of  investigation 
will  ever  be  as  obsolete  as  their  outlooks.  But, 
on  the  whole,  the  political  and  social  theories 
evolved  in  the  last  few  decades  have  been  sim- 
ply the  ideologic  expression  of  the  spontaneous 
process  of  social  development  which  began  in 
the  time  of  Xapoleon. 

Now,  a  political  theory  may  be  either  an  in- 
terpretation of  an  actual  past  or  the  projec- 
tion of  a  possible  future:  in  the  first  case  the 
emphasis  is  upon  precedent  and  the  tendency 

13 


14    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

is  that  of  "Realpolitik ;"  in  the  second  case  the 
emphasis  falls  upon  innovation,  and  the  vision 
is  accordingly  "Utopian."  Treitschke  and 
Hobbes  are  representative  of  the  "real"  school. 
They  merely  sought  to  embody,  in  a  permanent 
crystallized  form,  principles  which  have  always 
operated  in  all  sorts  of  political  societies.  They 
sought  the  common  denominator  which  made 
some  sort  of  political  society  expedient  in  both 
Prussia  and  Polynesia.  Neither  the  element  of 
ethics  nor  that  of  creative  endeavor  had  an  im- 
portant place  in  their  systems.  Force  was  the 
basic  concept  of  their  philosophies,  and  their 
habit  of  magnifying  the  role  of  power  in  the 
body  politic  had  the  astute  effect  of  justifying 
"the  powers  that  be."  Hobbes  and  Treitschke 
may  have  admitted  ethical  principles  and  cur- 
rent moral  saws  in  their  schemes,  but  the  in- 
clusion of  these  elements  by  such  reactionary 
theorists  was  an  example  of  vice's  homage  to 
virtue,  and  proved  the  necessity  for  erecting 
political  philosophy  on  a  more  comprehensive 
moral  basis  than  "Realpohtik"  could  supply. 
So  much  for  the  morals  of  realism.  The 
other  kind  of  theoretical  approach,  which  I  de- 
liberately call  Utopian,  suffers  from  the  same 
defect  in  a  slightly  different  position.     The 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  15 

Utopians,  men  like  Marx  and  Bakunin,  began 
with  a  hot  moral  revulsion  against  the  ugliness 
and  disorder  of  contemporary  society.  Nega- 
tively, their  moral  impulses  were  sound.  They 
needed  only  intellectually  to  be  deepened  and 
enriched  in  order  to  provide  the  basis  for  a 
new  system  of  society.  Unfortunately  the 
moral  basis  of  Marxism  was  obscured  by  its 
economic  development,  and  the  new  society  the 
Marxians  looked  forward  to  rested  upon  the 
same  old  methods — the  methods  of  force  and 
constraint.  Whether  these  methods  are  called 
"historical  necessity"  or  the  supreme  law  of 
human  society  matters  little.  Their  substance 
remains  the  same.  Marx  and  Treitschke  were 
both  "post-Napoleon,"  and  by  that  fact  their 
thoughts  are  dated  and  their  underlying  kin- 
ship established. 

A  general  survey  of  the  history  of  the  sec- 
ond half  of  the  nineteenth  century  would  jus- 
tify the  conclusion  that  the  revolutionary 
traditions  of  1789-93,  of  1830-48  have  been 
forgotten.  It  would  be  far  from  the  truth  to 
say  that  these  traditions  inspired  the  European 
life  of  the  last  sixty  or  seventy  years.  What 
this  period  inherited  was  not  the  traditions  of 
revolution,  but  the  traditions  of  Napoleonism. 


16    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

At  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
it  seemed  for  a  while  as  if  the  American  and 
French  revolutions  would  bring  about  a  change 
not  only  in  the  social  life,  but  in  the  mental  at- 
titude of  future  generations.  It  seemed  that 
the  absolutism  of  the  Bourbons,  and  of  the 
United  Kingdom  in  its  treatment  of  the  colo- 
nies, had  been  crushed,  not  merely  as  a  political 
form  but  even  as  a  state  of  mind.  This  change 
could  be  expected  because  of  the  coming  into 
being  of  The  Third  Estate  as  a  political  factor. 
But  the  expected  did  not  come.  What  did  hap- 
pen was  that  the  conceptions  of  centralization 
fostered  by  Louis  XIV,  Frederick  of  Prussia, 
or  even  Voltaire  and  the  rest  of  the  Encyclo- 
pedists, proved  more  vital  than  the  idealistic 
conceptions  of  the  Declaration  of  Rights.  It 
was  not  the  ideas  of  the  French  Revolution  as 
conceived  by  Robespierre,  Saint  Simon,  or 
Fourier,  but  the  ideas  of  Napoleon  and  Bis- 
marck that  gained  acceptance. 

Further  on,  in  our  chapter  on  War,  we  shall 
deal  in  greater  detail  with  the  causes  of  this. 
It  is  sufficient  to  state  now  that  the  wonderful 
centralized  state  machine  of  Napoleon  was  the 
result  of  a  military  conception. 

It  was  not  an  accident  that  Napoleon  was  a 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  17 

general.  Paraphrasing  the  famous  saying  of 
Voltaire,  one  might  say  that  had  there  been  no 
Napoleon,  he  would  have  had  to  be  invented. 
And  Bismarck  was  his  legitimate  and  natural 
heir.  Bismarck  is  the  embodiment  of  the  theory 
of  centralization;  he  stands  as  the  symbol  of 
the  second  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  domi- 
nated  by  the  idea  of  centralization: — that  the 
State  is  the  only  supreme  power.  The  State 
is  valuable  only  so  long  as  it  represents  a 
machine,  with  a  supreme  and  powerful  grip, 
ruling  and  governing  minute,  separate  and 
fragmentary  wills. 

Hence  the  methods  for  national  administra- 
tion, openly  recognized  or  not,  must  be  the 
same;  and  although  the  last  six  or  seven 
decades  of  the  nineteenth  century  have  been 
called  the  period  of  parliamentarianism,  that 
period  differs  very  little  in  essence  from  the 
frank  and  open  state-despotism  of  the  six- 
teenth century  as  outlined  by  Machiavelli. 
What  characterized  the  political  parliament 
was  not  that  it  was  representative  of  the  peo- 
ple and  therefore  an  expression  of  the  will  of 
the  people.  It  was  merely  a  different  method 
of  rule  by  a  centralized  state. 

This  accounts  for  the  degeneration  of  par- 


18    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

liamentarianism  and  for  the  disrepute  with 
which  it  has  fallen  in  the  minds  of  enlightened 
men  and  women.  It  is  not  only  radical  Russia 
that  dared  to  violate  the  supreme  holy  power 
of  the  Constituent  Assembly  freely  elected  by 
the  people.  Even  in  England,  where  parlia- 
mentarianism  is  six  centuries  old,  the  people 
have,  to  a  large  extent,  ceased  to  respect  it,  so 
that  J.  Ramsay  Macdonald,  an  unconditional 
adherent  of  parliamentary  democracy,  could 
state  in  an  article  in  the  "Nation,"  July,  1919, 
that  British  labor  is  more  and  more  dissatisfied 
with  the  idea  of  par  liamentarianism.  The  Ger- 
man Constituent  Assembly  was  so  weak  that 
it  had  to  remove  from  Berlin  to  Weimar  to  be 
allowed  to  deliberate  in  peace.  Even  so,  it  was 
threatened  actually  by  various  political  groups. 
More  significant  still,  it  had  practically  to  sub- 
mit to  the  will  of  those  entirely  outside  it  and 
to  sign  the  peace  treaty,  although  the  majority 
of  the  assembly  was  against  signing. 

Another  example  is  the  Peace  Conference 
at  Paris.  Never  in  all  history  was  a  conference 
so  big,  never  had  a  conference  to  deal  with  mat- 
ters of  such  importance.  Yet  for  all  that  it 
had  no  authority.  The  Bolsheviki,  or  radicals, 
do  not  recognize  it  at  all,  ex  ojjicio,  and  even 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  19 

the  Allies  are  working  against  the  most  vital 
decisions  of  it.  The  Italians  protested;  China 
still  withholds  her  signature  to  the  treaty ;  Rou- 
mania  in  the  Near  East  is  acting  in  defiance  of 
its  decisions;  England  and  France  in  their 
competition  for  supremacy  in  Eastern  Europe 
seem  to  have  forgotten  that  there  ever  was  such 
a  thing  as  the  Treaty  of  Versailles. 

There  is  no  authority.  "Wliy?  Because  or- 
ganization, elections,  majorities,  have  degen- 
erated into  mere  form.  Thej''  have  no  moral 
force  with  the  people  because  the  people  come 
to  know  that  they  are  mere  forms  and  have 
ceased  to  believe  in  them. 

This  is  the  real  meaning  of  the  historical 
events  of  the  last  decades.  "What  was  the  real 
difference  between  the  governments  of  despotic 
Turkey  and  autocratic  Russia,  and  the  govern- 
ments of  constitutional  England  and  republi- 
can France?  Basically,  none.  In  all  these 
countries  the  principle  that  prevailed  was  the 
supremacy  of  the  State.  In  Constantinople 
and  Petrograd  the  State  was  represented  by 
a  person;  in  London  and  Paris  it  was  repre- 
sented by  a  group  or  organization.  But  in 
both  these  forms  of  representation  the  main 
idea  was  the  bringing  about  of  immediate  aims, 


20    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  securing  of  a  political  hand-to-mouth  ex- 
istence. There  was  neither  a  social  system,  nor 
a  guiding  principle,  nor  a  creative  political 
spirit.  The  forms  already  existing  were  con- 
sidered more  or  less  perfect  forms,  and  all  vital 
emergencies  were  bent  merely  upon  their  pres- 
ervation and  continuance. 

The  chief  characteristic  of  the  political  life 
of  Europe,  from  the  Far  East  to  the  Far  West, 
was  egoistic  self-satisfaction  with  existing  in- 
stitutions and  the  social  order.  Any  new  idea 
that  appeared  was  to  be  suppressed — because 
it  was  new.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that 
political  life  in  recent  years  has  not  advanced 
very  far  beyond  the  authoritarianism  of 
medieeval  times,  when  it  was  thought  that  there 
was  nothing  new  under  the  sun  and  that  so- 
ciety's sole  duty  was  to  understand  the  meaning 
of  what  was  and  to  conserve  what  is. 

It  may  appear  strange  that  I  can  see  no  ma- 
terial difference  between  the  various  democra- 
cies in  Europe.  Let  us  look  more  into  the  mat- 
ter. One  idea  and  one  only  stood  out  as  a 
possible  means  of  salvation  amid  all  the  strug- 
gles of  the  second  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century, — the  idea  of  the  majority.  As  a  prin- 
ciple there  can  be  no  objection  to  it.    But  how 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  21 

was  it  carried  out  in  actual  practice?  The 
Tsar  was  sure — or  pretended  to  be  sure — that 
he  represented  the  majority  of  the  Russian 
people;  that  all  protesting  revolutionists  were 
pernicious  Nihilists  who  must  be  removed  from 
society.  In  England,  real  universal  suffrage 
does  not  as  yet  exist,  and  the  majority,  repre- 
sented there,  is  not  a  real  majorit3^  It  was 
moulded  according  to  a  certain  pattern  by  a 
new  force  invented  by  our  civilization  to  defeat 
the  real  will  of  the  majority.  Call  this  force 
whatever  you  will — public  opinion,  the  press. 
It  accomplished  the  purpose  for  which  it  was 
called  into  play  with  marvelous  efficiency,  so 
that  the  vote  of  the  majority  meant  nothing. 
It  was  not  the  expression  of  the  will  of  the 
people.  Those  who  could  carry  on  the  most 
powerful  propaganda  had  their  way.  And  the 
State,  for  all  the  free  speech  and  free  press  it 
granted,  having  at  its  disposal  the  most  effec- 
tive weapon  of  propaganda,  the  powerful  and 
influential  press,  had  things  its  own  way. 
While  officially  representing  the  people,  the 
State  in  reality  represented  only  the  people 
who  supported  it.  And  these  were  a  minority! 
Republican  France  offers  a  still  more  strik- 
ing example.    Every  time  a  new  election  was 


22    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

to  be  held  a  new  "crime"-  of  Gustav  Herve  was 
discovered,  and  he  was  put  in  jail  and  held 
there  until  after  the  election.  Thus  a  country 
which  lacks  the  syndicated  Northcliffe  press 
uses  other  centralized  forces  of  governmental 
supremacy.  The  law,  the  legal  codes,  and  all 
the  governmental  traditions  were  the  servants 
and  tools  always  at  the  command  of  the  State. 

Thus  the  idea  of  government  by  majorities 
was  mutilated  and  inevitably  proved  a  failure. 
It  did  not  bring  salvation.  Our  rulers  suc- 
ceeded in  imposing  upon  us  what  is  tanta- 
mount to  a  despotic  government  just  as 
surely  and  effectively  as  Napoleon  did  at  the 
beginning  of  the  last  century.  And  to-day  we 
are  witnessing  the  death  of  majority  rule  or  at 
least  of  the  idea  for  which  it  stands.  It  has 
committed  suicide. 

Why  has  this  happened?  Can  it  be  that  the 
anarchists  are  right  after  all  in  their  persistent 
denial  of  all  governments?  Hardly.  I  think 
it  is  rather  because  we  were  hypnotized  by  the 
idea  of  a  mechanical  state,  and  became  utterly 
oblivious  of  those  elements  of  the  state'  which 
gave  it  its  vitalitj^ — the  individual,  and  the 
moral  basis  underlying  it.  The  very  concept 
of  the  individual  was  ehminated  from  the  mod- 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  23 

ern  parliamentary,  or  non-parliamentary,  or 
democratic  state.  On  the  one  hand,  our  indus- 
trial development,  economic  growth,  and  the 
sophistication  of  the  human  spirit  and  mind, 
gave  birth  to  strong  individuals,  with  initiative, 
and  nerve,  and  a  desire  to  do  things.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  same  causes  produced  a  strong 
centralized  state  which  brooded  no  interference 
from  the  individual.  It  took  no  account  of  the 
individual's  growth.  If  he  stood  in  its  way  it 
either  destroyed  him  entirely  or  at  least  crushed 
his  individuality. 

The  tragedy  of  Nietzsche  and  his  madness  is 
more  than  a  particular  case  of  a  diseased  philo- 
sophical mind.  It  is  the  tragedy  of  modern 
civilization.  Almost  all  the  important  activities 
of  an  individual  are  controlled,  officially  and 
unofficially,  by  the  State.  He  can  develop 
freely  only  within  the  limits  in  which  the  State 
circumscribes  him.  Thus  we  arrive  at  the  para- 
dox, the  baneful  contradiction,  that  while  the 
growth  of  society  requires  individual  govern- 
ing forces  in  ever  larger  and  larger  numbers, 
the  State,  which  is  identified  with  society,  sup- 
presses all  these  forces ;  while  the  one  unifying 
force  of  society  is  the  free  individual,  the  State 
hampers  the  process  of  solidarization.     Until 


24    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  rise  of  democratic  governments  the  mili- 
tary machine  alone  was  open  to  the  criticism  of 
being  the  extreme  of  centralism.  Now  cen- 
tralism has  become  the  characteristic  of  all 
states. 

That  the  power  derived  from  centralism  is 
purely  mechanical  is  obvious.  Mechanicism  is 
concerned  only  with  utilitarianism.  Moral 
problems  are  quite  outside  its  province.  Our 
modern  states  are  all  children  of  Bentham, 
children  of  his  idea  of  supreme  utilitarianism. 
Consequently  all  our  endeavors,  all  our  in- 
stincts and  impulses  are  directed  not  towards 
the  producing  of  real  values,  but  are  made  sub- 
servient to  the  practical  utilitarian  needs  of 
the  State.  Everything,  including  religion,  is 
placed  at  the  service  of  the  State.  Christianity 
is  more  of  a  governmental  tool  now  than  it  was 
even  in  the  days  of  the  theocratic  aspirations  of 
the  Roman  popes.  Patriotism  has  become  the 
weapon  of  national  egotism.  Nationalism  has 
degenerated  into  a  kind  of  self-assertive  Mes- 
sianism,  with  every  nation,  great  or  small, 
considering  itself  the  supreme  people  who 
would  bring  salvation  to  the  world.  Thus,  if 
our  new  society  possesses  any  moral  basis  at  all, 
it  is  merely  the  moral  basis  of  a  utiHtarian, 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  25 

mechanical  system,  and  the  morality  of  that  is 
infinitesimal. 

In  internal  politics  our  methods  are  the  same 
as  in  international  relations.  Machiavelli  said 
that  Christianity  was  a  doctrine  for  sheep 
among  wolves.  Treitschke  declared  that  not  to 
lie  was  a  monk's  virtue.  He  also  said  that  poli- 
ticians would  become  more  moral  only  when 
morals  became  more  political.  In  these  sen- 
tences is  reflected  the  essential  spirit  of  our 
times.  Brailsford,  in  one  of  his  articles,  shows 
very  clearly  how  international  politics  is  based 
on  pure  practicalism  and  veiled  in  high  falutin 
moral  phrases.  Hindenburg  cabled  to  the 
Turkish  Enver  Pasha  and  urged  him  not  to 
kill  any  more  Armenians.  His  message  was 
unheeded,  but  Turkey  was  not  dropped  as  an 
ally.  Kitchener  or  Lloyd  George  did  not  even 
cable  to  Nicholas  the  Second  to  ask  him  to  stop 
the  massacres  in  Galicia  and  in  eastern  Russia. 
And  the  Tsar  was  an  ally. 

The  pretense  of  following  a  principle  in  in- 
ternal politics  merely  accentuates  the  poverty 
and  the  moral  emptiness  of  our  age.  In  inter- 
national relations  even  such  a  pretense  is  hardly 
made.  Diplomacy,  secret  diplomacy,  secret  ne- 
gotiations, secret  propaganda,  official  spies,  are 


26    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  generally  recognized  and  universally  em- 
ployed tools  in  international  politics.  It  is 
useless  to  enter  into  a  detailed  discussion  of 
economic  imperialism.  Too  much  has  already 
been  said  and  written  about  it.  Economic  im- 
perialism has  no  special  meaning,  nor  was  it  the 
sole  cause  of  the  world  crisis.  It  is  merely  one 
of  the  most  acute  forms  of  the  general  disease. 

Yet  a  brief  word  about  economic  imperial- 
ism.  "What  is  the  significance  of  it?  Economic 
imperialism  means  that  the  State — I  empha- 
size again,  the  State,  and  not  society, — consid- 
ers itself  as  the  supreme  force,  as  the  Messiah, 
of  its  people,  and  tries  to  rule  as  much  as  pos- 
sible and  over  as  many  as  possible.  Living  as 
we  do  in  a  period  of  great  industrial  develop- 
ment and  high  economic  attainment,  the  crown 
of  our  moral  emptiness  and  individual  sup- 
pression is  economic  imperialism,  instead  of  the 
old-fashioned  imperialism. 

Some  economic  elements  there  were  in  Na- 
poleon's rule  also.  There  was  a  very  strong 
economic  element  in  Bismarck's  campaigns 
against  Austria  in  1866,  and  against  France  in 
1871 ;  but  it  is  undeniable  that  the  vital  historic 
factors  of  the  Napoleonic  times  were  the  new 
liberty,  the  centralization  of  the  third  estate. 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  27 

and  the  introduction  into  the  State,  formally 
at  least,  of  a  new  element  of  society. 

Bismarck's  period  witnessed  the  rise  of  a 
purely  national  movement,  backed  by  the  vast 
economic  resources  which  the  rapid  develop- 
ment of  industry  put  into  its  hands.  If  the 
slogan  of  1796-1811  was  "Liberty,"  the  slogan 
of  1848-1871  was  "national  unity."  That  of 
1914-1919  was  the  "world-market."  But  the 
substance  of  all  was  the  same.  A  ray  of  sun- 
light is  composed  of  many  colors,  and  whether 
the  refraction  gives  blue,  yellow  or  light,  the 
substance  is  the  same. 

Society  is  now  undergoing  another  period  of 
"stress  and  strain."  Economically  speaking, 
the  Third  Estate  is  as  bankrupt  as  the  feudal 
states  were  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury. The  Fourth  Estate  is  coming  into  life. 
But  are  there  any  new  social  and  moral  values 
involved  in  this  rearrangement  of  our  political 
groups?  Have  the  instruments  of  the  trans- 
formation themselves  been  changed? 

At  present  two  slogans  can  be  distinguished 
above  the  clamor  of  old  part}'-  cries.  One  is, 
that  the  future  belongs  to  labor.  The  other, 
that  Socialism  is  now  at  the  point  of  realiza- 
tion.   Let  us  consider  these  two  ideas  for  the 


28    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

moment  from  the  point  of  view  of  society  and 
the  state.  We  shall  look  at  them  from  a  dif- 
ferent angle  in  the  chapter  on  Revolution. 

For  the  present  we  have  to  note  that  Marx- 
ism, on  the  eve  of  the  third  decade  of  the  twen- 
tieth century,  has  no  longer  the  sanction  of  a 
divine  revelation,  even  to  a  socialist.  Through 
the  lifting  haze  that  rested  over  thought 
for  almost  three-quarters  of  a  century  we  can 
now  see  that  the  so-called  economic  interpre- 
tation of  history  did  no  more  than  provide  us 
with  a  method.  It  left  out  of  its  reckoning  such 
elements  as  national  spirit,  moral  principles, 
and  individual  activity.  In  order  to  be  con- 
sistent, Marx  had  to  deny  the  role  of  the  in- 
dividual in  history.  Refusing  to  recognize  the 
cultural  values  of  nationality,  he  was  forced  to 
reduce  it  to  a  zoological  prejudice.  He  com- 
pelled himself  to  deny  the  drive  and  motive 
force  of  ideas,  and  he  thus  eliminated  psychol- 
ogy as  an  independent  factor  from  his  system. 
He  had  to  maintain  that  psychological  ele- 
ments only  arose  passively  from  the  interplay 
of  economic  forces  and  that  they  had  no  deter- 
minative power  in  themselves. 

But  in  the  light  of  the  recent  war  a  crude 
Marxism    wilts    into    absurdity.      The    uni- 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  29 

versal  proletariat  were  not  rational  enough  to 
be  economic  men  in  either  the  Benthamite  or  the 
Marxian  sense.  Purely  psychological  forces, 
the  drive  of  instinct  to  rally  with  the  herd,  the 
spur  of  sentiment,  the  regulation  of  habit, 
caused  the  proletariat  to  jeopardize  their  class 
interests  for  the  sake  of  plans  against  which 
they  had  long  been  in  obstinate  intellectual  op- 
position. Individual  ambition,  too,  swept  away 
the  economic  alignments  and  played  its  fatal 
part  in  the  march  of  events.  The  war  magni- 
fied the  brute  forces  of  personality.  The  most 
economic  man,  the  proletarian,  was  first  of  all 
a  man! 

Among  the  officers  of  state  this  phenomenon 
was  perhaps  even  more  marked.  The  osten- 
sible leaders,  Wilhelm  II  and  Nicholas  II,  for 
example,  were  perhaps  purely  the  product  of 
their  time  and  environment,  the  puppets  of  a 
determinist  Punch  and  Judy  show.  But  be- 
hind the  scenes  were  the  unseen  manipulators 
of  the  strings,  the  active  personalities,  the  men 
who  were  the  creators  as  well  as  the  creatures 
of  their  environment.  Berchtold  and  Beth- 
mann-Hollweg,  Tisza  and  the  Grand  Duke 
Nicholas,  and  many  others  who  are  still  per- 
haps unknown,  were  themselves  original  forces, 


30    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

and  their  individual  powers  effected  important 
results.  Indeed,  is  not  Lenin  himself  a  striking 
example  in  refutation  of  Marx's  denial  of  the 
individual?  Under  an  individual  like  Lenin, 
surrounded  by  a  few  ardent  aides,  the  least 
industrial,  least  class-conscious,  least  educated, 
least  proletarian  country  in  Europe  was  trans- 
formed in  the  course  of  a  year  into  the  most 
centralized  and  most  audacious  experimental 
laboratory  of  Sociahst  theories.  What  part 
did  the  blind  evolution  of  economic  forces  have 
to  play  in  that  transformation  ?  On  the  Marx- 
ian theory  Russia  was  least  of  all  "ready"  for 
Socialism.  A  handful  of  Marxian  enthusiasts 
wrecked  the  theoretical  conspectus  of  their 
master.  In  the  act  of  realizing  his  dreams  they 
overthrew  his  theories. 

Now  it  is  important  that  we  should  realize 
that  Marxism  as  a  conception  of  state,  as  a 
theory  of  group  initiative,  does  not  differ  ma- 
terially from  the  classic  doctrines  of  Bentham, 
Hobbes,  and  IMachiavelli.  Politically  and 
psychologically  it  rests  upon  insufficiently  crit- 
icized foundations.  Marx's  extreme  interna- 
tionalism does  not  imply  a  denial  of  the  state: 
it  justifies  the  supremacy  of  an  international 
state.    Even  his  conception  of  liberty  is  not  the 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  31 

belief  in  a  positive  value,  but  in  a  negative  in- 
strument. To  Marx  liberty  means  simply 
liberation,  the  gesture  of  escape,  the  relief  from 
oppression.  "When  Marx  observed  in  1848 
that  the  proletarian  has  no  fatherland,  he  was 
only  in  temporary  reaction  against  chauvinism. 
A  positive  conception  of  citizenship  was  never 
apparently  formulated  by  him.  Had  he  said 
that  the  proletarian  was  a  citizen  of  all  father- 
lands his  dictum,  if  no  closer  to  fact,  would  at 
any  rate  have  pointed  the  way  to  an  ideal.  The 
working  out  of  an  active  proletarian  citizen- 
ship might  have  kept  the  structure  of  Interna- 
tional Socialism  from  breaking  down  at  the 
outbreak  of  the  war.  Patriotic  and  national 
sentiments,  in  the  best  sense,  are  obviously  val- 
uable instrumentalities,  and  the  refusal  to  take 
advantage  of  them  and  direct  them  and  profit 
by  them  was  no  small  factor  in  weakening  the 
international  movement.  From  this  point  of 
view  neither  Scheidemann  nor  Henderson, 
neither  George  Plekhanov  nor  Albert  Thomas, 
are  to  be  reproached  for  their  impulsive  pa- 
triotism. A  wise  internationalism,  proletarian 
or  bourgeois,  must  always  reckon  with  its  ma- 
terials. And  in  this  the  Marxians  failed  as 
completely  as  the  Cobdenites. 


32    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

The  catalog  of  Marx's  psychological  errors 
might  be  lengthened.  He  urged,  for  example, 
the  right  of  the  proletarian  to  leisure.  In  part, 
this  was  an  obvious  reaction  against  the  ex- 
hausting work-day  characteristic  of  machine 
production;  in  part,  it  was  an  unconscious 
adoption  of  the  canons  of  leisure  erected  by 
the  bourgeoisie  whom  he  contemned.  From  a 
sociological  point  of  view  he  had  better  have 
urged  the  obligation  of  labor  upon  all,  for  this 
would  not  then  have  eliminated  from  "labor" 
the  notion  of  its  social  and  ethical  value  for 
personality,  apart  from  its  contribution  to  an 
ultimate  product.  It  was  left  to  the  thinkers 
of  less  industrialized  countries  than  England 
or  Germany — Russia  in  particular,  and  writ- 
ers like  Herzen,  Lavrov,  and  Mikhailovsky 
for  choice — to  elaborate  a  genuinely  sociologi- 
cal theory  of  labor.  To  Marx  labor  meant  only 
a  contribution  to  production;  to  these  Russian 
thinkers  it  meant  a  gift  to  society.  (It  is  un- 
fortunate, by  the  way,  that  the  English-read- 
ing public's  only  opportunity  thus  far  to  know 
Mikhailovsky  was  but  recently  thrown  open 
by  the  publication  of  Professor  Masaryk's 
book  "The  Spirit  of  Russia.") 

There  is  no  need  to  labor  the  point :  the  main 


The  Impasse  of  Politics  33 

elements  of  Marxism  as  a  theory  of  society  rest 
for  the  most  part  on  antiquated  mechanical 
conceptions.  Because  Marxism  did  not  suffi- 
ciently absorb  the  advancing  discoveries  of  psy- 
chology it  was  unable  to  repair  its  social 
deficiencies,  and  as  a  result  we  have  been  forced 
to  witness  a  disintegration  of  INIarxism 
throughout  the  world.  The  best  demonstra- 
tion that  an  idea  is  losing  its  original  integrity 
and  vigor  comes  when  its  various  adherents 
form  sects  which  claim  authoritatively  to  in- 
terpret it,  and  which  conflict  among  themselves 
more  heartily  than  they  are  able  to  unite 
against  their  opponents.  This  has  happened  to 
Marxism.  The  cries  of  schism  and  heresy 
abound;  there  are  factions  within  factions; 
and  right  and  left  wings  flap  with  aimless  en- 
ergy without  lifting  the  body  politic  a  single 
foot  from  the  ground.  An  international  move- 
ment that  embraces  both  Noske  and  Lenin 
must  obviously  attempt  to  move  in  two  oppo- 
site directions:  and  if  a  body  is  pushed  with 
equal  force  in  opposite  directions  it  will  not 
move  at  alL  That  is  the  impasse  of  present- 
day  Socialism.  The  "movement"  is  at  a  stand- 
still. 

In  mediaeval  times  the  doctrines  of  Chris- 


34    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

tianity  found  themselves  in  a  similar  plight,  as 
a  result  of  similar  breaches,  divergences,  and 
misunderstandings.     Loyola  and  Savonarola 
each  claimed  to  represent  the  true  spirit  of 
Christian  resignation,  and  the  only  issue  from 
the  deadlock  of  the  Inquisition  was  a  Luther 
on  one  hand  or  a  Medici  on  the  other.     We 
need  such  a  definite  cleavage,  such  a  clear-cut 
joining  of  issues  to-day,  in  order  that  we  rid 
ourselves  of  traditional,  authoritative  Marx- 
ism and  reach  out  towards  a  third  alternative. 
Along  the  present  lines  no  movement  is  pos- 
sible other  than  dissolution.    We  must  there- 
fore seek  new  ways,  new  means,  new  issues. 
In  so  far  as   Socialist  thought  is  concerned 
there  are  indications  of  a  forthcoming  renewal. 
In  the  idea  of  Guild  Sociahsm  is  the  promise 
of  a  middle  term  which  will  involve  an  actual 
advance  to  new  ground  rather  than  a  recessive 
compromise.    Over  our  social  thought,  at  least, 
a  new  light  seems  about  to  break.    Whether  it 
will  influence  our  conduct,  whether  it  will  guide 
our  movements,  whether  it  will  lead  us  into  a 
new  day  are  questions  whose  answers  are  still 
to  be  written. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   DEBAUCH   OF   EUEOPEAN   THOUGHT 

If  we  are  to  understand  the  complicated 
problems  of  our  civilization  it  will  first  of  all 
be  necessary,  I  believe,  to  discover  the  extent 
to  which  we  actually  possessed  a  civilization. 
The  word  itself  is  full  of  vague  justifications 
and  assumptions.  It  was  under  the  banner  of 
a  new  civilization  that  the  belligerent  peoples 
rose  in  arms  for  the  world  war.  Under  the 
same  banner  they  have  risen  for  revolution. 
Under  the  same  banner  the  old  order  takes  up 
the  challenge  to  defend  itself  against  the  forces 
of  protest.  War  and  peace,  reaction  and  revo- 
lution, justify  themselves  by  this  common 
standard,  which  each  claims  for  its  own.  It  is 
evidently  high  time  to  ask  what,  really,  does 
civilization  mean? 

The  same  necessity  for  intellectual  criticism 
attaches  to  the  word  democracy.  Words  origi- 
nally significant  of  high  ideas  and  purposes 

35 


36    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

tend,  in  the  course  of  time,  to  dissipate  their 
meaning,  and  the  rate  of  dissipation  is  usually 
proportional  to  the  extent  to  which  they  are 
used.    When  popular  speech  has  all  but  lost 
for  words  like  "democracy"  any  vestige  of  in- 
tellectual content  it  is  proper  for  the  critic 
either  to  redefine  the  word  so  as  to  conform  to 
new   circumstances,   or   to   cast   it   altogether 
aside.    Where  now  is  democracy?    Is  it  in  the 
abolition    of    the    constitutional    and    parlia- 
mentary guarantees  in  parliamentarism's  na- 
tive land,  England,  and  in  its  liberty-loving 
offspring,  the  United  States?     And  where  is 
civilization?    Is  it  in  the  submarine  warfare  of 
von  Tirpitz;  in  the  Allied  blockade  of  Russia; 
in  the  ruthless  suppression  of  Egypt;  in  the 
"friendly"  agreement  for  dominating  Persia? 
Is  it  in  the  teutonophobe  scientists  of  England 
and  France,  or  in  the  hypocritical  prostitution 
practised  in  Germany  by  men,  for  example, 
like  Werner  Sombart? 

We  in  Russia  have  learned  to  appraise  civi- 
lization, for  our  civilization,  unlike  that  of  most 
Western  European  countries,  has  to  some  ex- 
tent been  completely  adopted,  and  has  there- 
fore been  the  outcome  of  choice.  In  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  about  the  time  of  the  Empress 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     37 

Catherine  II,  or  somewhat  later,  Russian  intel- 
lectuals initiated  an  interminable  and  some- 
times acrid  discussion  on  the  subject  of  east- 
ern and  western  civilization.     They  wished  to 
determine  the   lines   upon   which   civilization 
should  move  in  the  Russia  of  the  future.    Put- 
ting aside  the  chauvinists,  those  interpreters  of 
Russian  civilization  who  wrote  and  thought 
only  to  conserve  the  old  order,  we  had  two 
strong  parties.     On  one  side  were  the  Slavo- 
phils; on  the  other,  the  partisans  of  western 
civilization.     As  far  back  as  the  fifth  decade 
of  the  last  century  one  of  our  great  intellec- 
tuals, Hertzen,  who  had  spent  almost  all  his 
life  in  Europe,  uttered  a  warning  which  now 
appears  almost  prophetic.     He  urged  us  to 
guard  Russia  against  the  assimilation  of  the 
"rotten  and  dying  European  civilization."    He 
indicated  that  what  had  been  thought  a  con- 
test  between   two   civilizations   was   really   a 
struggle  of  life  and  death. 

The  course  of  events  has  profoundly  justified 
Herzen's  vision.  We  must  confess  that,  at  the 
touch  of  the  world  war,  every  human  element 
went — like  the  corpse  in  Poe's  story — into  a 
state  of  putrid  dissolution.  Our  world  civili- 
zation proved  bankrupt,  because  in  the  moment 


38    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

of  greatest  moral  and  intellectual  stress  the 
most  prominent  representatives  of  "civiliza- 
tion" demonstrated  themselves  the  most  active 
inspirers  of  animosity  and  destruction. 

Whatever  civilization  may  be  we  have  some 
general  agreement  as  to  its  products.  Science 
and  art  and  philosophy  and  general  standards 
of  conduct,  if  they  do  not  compose  civilization, 
are  at  any  rate  its  outward  manifestation.  For 
the  purpose  of  our  examination  we  shall  take 
science  and  art  and  philosophy  as  the  equiva- 
lent of  that  more  comprehensive  movement  of 
the  mind  which  stricter  usage  might  designate 
as  civilization.  What  then  were  the  charac- 
teristics of  civilization  in  the  period  before  the 
war  and  during  the  war  itself?  How  shall 
we  sum  up  the  spirit  of  our  science?  (By 
science  I  mean  not  what  is  usually  included  in 
university  courses:  I  use  the  term  for  lack  of 
a  European  equivalent,  in  the  Russian  sense, 
to  signify  our  whole  complex  of  knowledge, 
in  the  arts  as  well  as  the  mechanical  disci- 
plines.) 

Our  science  has  marched  along  two  separate 
paths.  That  part  which  did  not  directly  con- 
cern itself  with  social  problems  had  developed 
to  the  highest  degree  along  lines  of  technical. 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     39 

economic,  commercial  and  military  progress. 
The  engineer,  the  financier,  the  strategist,  ex- 
ercised a  power  never  before  approximated. 
The  "practical"  sciences  transformed  the  outer 
shell  of  hfe.  The  social  and  general  sciences, 
on  the  other  hand,  pursued  a  sohtary  and  inef- 
fectual course.  In  comparison  with  the  pure 
sciences  the  humanities  went  backward,  and 
their  retrogression  was  due  chiefly  to  their  en- 
deavor to  imitate  the  methods  of  pure  science. 
History  and  sociology  sought  the  material  for 
their  generalizations  in  a  petrified  past  which 
had  lost  all  immediate  value  and  relevance. 
They  attempted  to  reconstitute  the  shell  of 
civilization  without  taking  into  account  the 
vital  chemistry  that  had  created  it.  Where 
the  social  sciences  were  cocksure  they  had  not 
advanced  beyond  classification;  where  they 
were  more  dubious  about  their  results  they  had 
not  developed  more  than  a  technique  of  hazy 
generalization.  I  do  not  wish  unduly  to  de- 
preciate the  historical  and  philosophic  work  of 
the  last  thirty  years.  Much  of  it  has  a  per- 
manent value.  I  wish  only  to  point  out  that 
history  and  philosophy  had  separated  them- 
selves from  life,  and  that  they  tended  to  con- 
sider life  as  a  machine  whose  parts  they  could 


40    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

take  out  and  work  upon  separately.  Therein 
lay  their  error.  When  a  physicist  experiments 
with  inert  materials,  discovers  fresh  uniformi- 
ties in  their  behavior,  and  applies  his  knowledge 
to  new  inventions  he  follows  the  only  course 
open  to  him,  and  his  success  amply  justifies  his 
method.  But  the  historian  and  the  sociologist 
cannot  do  likewise  with  the  living  institutions 
of  our  times  without  losing  altogether  his  sense 
of  vital  reality.  The  mechanistic  technique  of 
the  social  sciences  left  them  sterile  and  unpro- 
ductive of  social  results.  Life  as  an  active 
process,  humanity  as  a  complex  of  millions  of 
interactions — success  in  the  social  sciences 
rested  on  a  recognition  of  these  fundamental 
facts.  And  the  social  sciences  did  not  rival  the 
physical  sciences  in  achieving  success  because 
the  basic  peculiarities  of  vital  reactions  were 
forgbtten.  Pragmatism  was  practically  the 
first  protest  against  this  dessicated  method  of 
dealing  with  the  facts  of  life.  And  it  is  with 
painful  slowness  that  the  more  flexible  tech- 
nique of  James  and  Bergson,  of  Ostwald  and 
Levy  Bruhl,  has  won  its  way  to  acceptance. 
The  real  philosophy  of  life,  for  life,  and  within 
life,  is  just  beginning  to  be  formulated.  It  re- 
gards life  as  a  continuously  active  process,  not 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     41 

as  a  series  of  mechanical  actions.  If  philoso- 
phy and  sociology  have  had  no  influence  over 
life  it  is  because  they  have  not  been  practically 
concerned  with  it  in  its  totality.  They  have  cut 
it  into  segments,  they  have  killed  it,  as  prelim- 
inary to  discovering  in  what  manner  it  works! 
As  far  as  the  social  sciences  are  concerned, 
accordingly,  we  may  characterize  the  period 
just  passed  as  a  period  of  materialism.  It  was 
not  necessary  to  be  a  Marxian  or  a  Socialist 
in  order  to  adopt  the  materialistic  point  of 
view.  Typical  in  the  social  sciences  were  men 
like  Seligman  in  the  United  States,  Werner 
Sombart  in  Germany,  and,  to  a  certain  extent, 
Durkheim  in  France  and  Loria  in  Italy. 
The  mechanical  and  industrial  developments 
of  the  time  had  so  affected  thought  that  all  the 
other  prime  elements  of  life  were  put  intellec- 
tually into  the  discard.  It  was  generally  sup- 
posed that  one  element  alone  in  history  was 
responsible  for  the  progress  of  the  race — 
namely,  economics.  The  more  penetrating 
thinkers  realized  the  insufficiency  of  this  creed 
at  the  outset  of  their  philosophic  work:  hence 
John  Dewey,  for  example,  has  tried  to  find  a 
place  for  our  more  fundamental  natural  im- 
pulses in  a  biological  conception  of  society,  and 


42    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

Bertrand  Russell,  for  the  same  reason,  has  en- 
deavored to  emphasize  the  psychological  fac- 
tors. But,  except  by  way  of  individual  re- 
action, there  was  no  escape.  Materialism  was 
dominant.  Beneath  the  grime  of  industrial- 
ism and  mechanics  the  faint  flush  of  vitalism 
could  barely  be  detected. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  criticize  the  material- 
istic conceptions  of  life:  it  is  only  necessary 
to  recognize  them  for  what  they  are  worth.  In 
sociology  and  in  practical  affairs  they  led  to 
a  condition  of  social  indifferentism.  The  so- 
cial sciences  neglected,  in  so  far  as  it  was  pos- 
sible, our  contemporary  problems,  for  the  rea- 
son that  what  is  contemporary,  living,  active, 
cannot  be  finally  analyzed  or  generalized. 
Economics  and  the  other  social  sciences  rushed 
into  a  crass  utilitarianism.  Politics,  as  I  have 
already  noted,  followed  the  same  course.  Life, 
history,  humanity  found  themselves  surrounded 
by  an  iron  band  of  materialistic  laws  and  proc- 
esses. Caught  within  that  circle,  paralyzed  by 
the  thought  of  being  unable  to  escape,  our 
social  affairs  dragged  inexorably  nearer  and 
nearer  a  certain  end.  It  mattered  little  what 
end — pure  parliamentarianism  with  the  con- 
servatives; pure  anarchy  or  Socialism  with  the 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     43 

revolutionists.  The  nearer  we  approached  the 
fatal  days  of  the  war  the  more  clearly  could  we 
perceive  the  dangers  of  collapse.  Even  in  the 
most  active  and  inspired  movement,  that  of 
the  Socialists,  the  same  materialistic  principles 
reigned.  The  main  idea  was  organization. 
Mechanical  combination,  the  union  of  individ- 
uals into  larger  groups,  the  automatic  driving 
force  of  machinery  were  the  ends  which  were 
sought,  for  example,  by  that  representative 
popular  party,  the  German  Social  Democracy. 
Nowhere  could  the  evil  results  of  this  principle 
be  more  starkly  evident.  The  German  Social 
Democrats,  albeit  they  possessed  the  most 
powerful  political  organization  within  any 
state  and  had  elected  the  greatest  number  of 
parliamentary  representatives,  were  the  least 
active  and  the  least  creative  of  social  groups. 
They  were  the  victims,  in  a  sense,  of  their  or- 
ganization. When  the  war  came  on  they  pre- 
served their  machine  by  wrecking  its  useful- 
ness to  international  social  democracy. 

It  is  strange  how  symbolic  separate  facts 
and  events  sometimes  seem  in  looking  back- 
ward. There  was  perhaps  one  man  in  Europe 
who  was  capable  of  infusing  a  new  vitality 
into  the  Socialist  movement.  Jean  Jaures  could 


44    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

perhaps  have  ralhed  the  new  forces  of  vital 
self-determination — but  he  was  murdered  on 
the  eve  of  the  war.  One  might  say  that  Eu- 
rope, having  gone  far  along  the  path  of  de- 
generation, thus  committed  the  last  act  of 
self-destruction.  She  murdered  the  individ- 
ual she  could  not  corrupt.  The  death  of  Jaures 
was  symbolic  of  what  happened  all  over 
Europe  to  individuality  and  genius. 

In  my  introduction  I  quoted  Romain  Hol- 
land's reference  to  the  mediocrity  of  our  time. 
We  may  now  clearly  see  that  not  only  politics, 
but  science  and  social  thought  have  contribu- 
ted to  the  mediocrity  of  our  society,  by 
contributing  falsely  mechanical  ideas  of  de- 
mocracy. Napoleon  conceived  equality  as  the 
equality  of  all  individuals  in  their  responsi- 
bility to  the  state.  Contemporary  Europe 
practically  understood  democracy  and  equality 
as  a  process  of  levelization — reducing  all  the 
characteristic  features  of  the  social  landscape  to 
an  intolerably  monotonous  plain.  Democracy 
in  its  contemporary  aspect  (I  shall  never  tire 
of  repeating  it)  brought  us  to  the  active  elimi- 
nation of  originality.  Instead  of  following  the 
individual's  impetus  to  lift  the  masses  to  a 
higher  level,  we  sought  by  force  to  make  the 


The  Dehauch  of  European  Thought     45 

individual  conform  to  the  lower  standards  im- 
posed by  the  state  machine.  Science,  and  es- 
pecially social  and  political  science,  with  their 
economic  determinism,  only  confirmed  that 
process. 

It  is  perhaps  too  early  to  pronounce  a  final 
judgment  on  this  subject.  We  are  not  as  yet 
in  a  position  to  operate  with  political  and  so- 
cial constants,  even  though  these  have  tended 
to  fix  themselves  in  our  thought.  In  order  to 
demonstrate  the  correctness  of  our  view  of  the 
democratic  process,  it  will  prove  more  fruitful 
to  turn  to  another  field,  that  of  art  and  liter- 
ature. 

In  Europe  and  America  there  has  been 
something  of  a  prejudice  against  the  treatment 
of  art  and  literature  from  the  social  point  of 
view.  Even  now,  when  the  private  life  of  the 
average  man  is  inextricably  bound  up  with 
political  and  social  problems,  "cultivated"  peo- 
ple are  somewhat  insensible  to  social  evalu- 
ations and  appreciations  of  literature.  The 
attitude  of  a  reviewer  in  the  London  "Nation" 
towards  Professor  ^lasaryk's  book  on  Russian 
literature  is  representative.  Masaryk,  follow- 
ing the  most  influential  Russian  tradition, 
treats  literature  as  a  direct  manifestation  of 


46    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

social  life.      He    shows    the    significance    of 

the  great  Russian  writers  in  relation  to  their 

time  and  milieu.     Accordingly  the  reviewer 
complains    that    Masaryk     neglects     artistic 

values,  and  criticizes  the  author  strongly  for 
neglecting  what,  from  the  European  point 
of  view,  is  the  central  contribution  of  liter- 
ature. This  prejudice  in  favor  of  "pure"  art 
is  widespread.  It  is  indicative  of  a  habit  of 
mechanically  separating  life  into  compart- 
ments, or  sanctuaries,  and  it  is  therefore  a 
denial  of  the  organic  integrity  of  every  mani- 
festation of  life. 

The  fallacy  of  this  point  of  view  is,  to  me  as 
a  Russian,  apparent.  Literature  does  not 
merely  add  something  to  life  by  way  of  private 
esthetic  satisfactions:  it  is  a  mighty  stream 
whose  many  branches  irrigate  every  region  of 
existence.  Science  can  utilize  much  of  its  ma- 
terials. The  Russian  and  French  psycho- 
analysts have  found  in  Dostoyevsky  and 
De  Maupassant  an  inexhaustible  treasure  house 
for  scientific  investigation.  The  perpetual 
reference  of  literature  to  our  social  life  is  in- 
escapable. One  may  here  recall  that  part  of 
Bergson's  "Creative  Evolution"  in  which  he  de- 
velops the  idea  of  the  vital  impetus  (elan  vital) 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought    47 

with  reference  to  its  manifestations  in  litera- 
ture. Where  hfe  is  abnormal,  where  political 
conditions  are  oppressive,  where  social  habits 
are  repressive,  where  dead  conventions  bring 
about  an  automatic,  mechanical  life,  only  one 
way  is  left  to  reflect  the  aspirations,  ideas,  the 
struggle,  and  the  efforts  of  the  individual — 
the  way  of  literature.  In  the  life  of  the  imagi- 
nation, in  the  intimate  medium  of  one's  pains 
and  doubts,  internal  protests  and  dreaming  as- 
pirations, are  born  the  simple  fictions,  the  series 
of  images  and  dreams,  which  we  call  liter- 
ature. 

Literature  is  the  last  refuge  and  asylum  of 
life.  That  is  the  reason  why  literature  flour- 
ishes in  times  of  reaction  and  social  tyranny. 
The  fecundity  of  literature  in  Russia  during 
the  nineteenth  century,  the  blackest  period 
of  our  history,  is  a  witness  to  this  truth. 
Strangled  in  the  last  convulsive  movement  of 
Russian  autocracy  the  spirit  of  the  Russian 
people  took  wings  and  flew  to  the  open  spaces 
of  the  soul.  Now  when  literature  is  translated 
and  communicated  to  other  peoples  it  brings 
about  a  psychological  interplay  which  adds  to 
the  common  stock  of  ideas  and  thoughts.  The 
success  of  Russian  literature  throughout  the 


48    Tlie  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

world  of  late  years  is  highly  significant  from 
this  point  of  view.  Materialism  had  put  west- 
ern civilization  under  a  yoke  as  heavy  as  that 
of  Russian  autocracy.  And  western  civiliza- 
tion turned  accordingly  to  the  country  that 
had  most  swiftly  and  completely  emancipated 
itself  from  the  forces  of  reaction  by  means  of 
its  literature.  Russian  literature  became  a 
world  literature,  because  it  was  a  regenerative 
reaction  from  a  world  disease. 

Of  course  this  theory  fails  on  the  surface  to 
answer  the  obvious  question — why  did  not 
French,  German,  and  English  literature  de- 
velop along  the  same  lines  during  this  period? 
The  answer  is  not  altogether  obscure.  In  the 
sense  in  which  I  use  the  word  reaction  it  does 
not  merely  apply  to  political  autocracy:  it  ap- 
plies to  more  widespread  social  methods  and 
principles  of  behavior,  even  though  the  adher- 
,  ents  of  reaction  march  under  the  banners  of 
civilization,  freedom,  democracy,  or  revolution. 
Reaction  in  this  sense  has  two  phases.  In  one 
case  certain  conscious  political  agents  overtly 
attempt  to  suppress  the  individual  forces  of 
society.  This  type  of  reaction  gives  rise  to  a 
widespread  internal  protest  which  moves  up- 
ward through  all  grades  of  society  and  pro- 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     49 

duces  strong  individualities,  who  are  competent 
to  voice  an  effective  opposition.  Such  was  the 
case  of  Russia  during  the  last  three-quarters 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  The  other  type  of 
reaction,  that  of  Europe,  is  somewhat  different. 
Politically  and  socially  Europe  was  more  or 
less  democratic.  That  is  to  say,  Europe  en- 
joyed constitutional  freedom,  and  the  forms 
of  an  unrepressive  political  society  were  at 
least  outlined  on  paper.  All  the  while,  how- 
ever, the  processes  of  levelization  and  stand- 
ardization were  working  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion. Wider  and  wider  provinces  of  social  life 
were,  without  protest,  brought  under  the  me- 
chanical control  of  an  impersonal — indeed,  an 
almost  automatic — state.  Before  Europe 
could  realize  its  position  the  forces  of  individ- 
uality were  disintegrated.  This  kind  of  reac- 
tion insidiously  blocks  up  the  creative  impulses 
of  society.  The  individual  is  forced  to  live 
meanly,  and  on  a  low  level.  And  under  these 
conditions  art  and  literature  begin  to  decay. 
Exceptional  men  of  genius  like  Romain  Rol- 
land  occasionally  continued  to  crop  up,  but  the 
greater  part  of  the  contemporarj^  generation 
in  Europe  remained  in  a  state  of  inactivity,  of 
passive  contemplation,  and  that  is  a  state  of 


50    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

spirit  which  favors  assimilation  from  without 
rather  than  independent  creation  from  within. 
Thus  it  happened  that  the  Russian  theater, 
Russian  music,  the  Russian  ballet,  the  Russian 
novel  acquired  during  the  last  twenty-five  years 
a  greater  and  greater  influence  throughout 
Europe. 

Science  is  a  useful  instrument  for  research, 
but  literature  carries  one  actually  to  the  thresh- 
old of  revelation.     In  almost  all  his  writing 
Bergson  emphasizes  that  we  do  not  know  the 
real  nature  of  things ;  even  the  widest  scientific 
knowledge  does  not  carry  us  a  step  towards 
that  goal.     We  live  among  hazy,  mysterious 
generalities,  the  secret  reality  of  which  we  feel 
only  by  our  direct,  creative  intuition.    At  times 
that  intuition  lifts  the  curtain  which  divides  us 
from  the  real  world,  and  we  give  birth  to  beau- 
tiful dreams  and  poetical  creations.    The  man 
who  could  at  will  raise  that  curtain  of  deadly 
obscurity  would  see  such  wonderful  pictures  of 
life  that  he  would  be  the  greatest  of  philosophic 
geniuses,  the  greatest  of  poetical  geniuses,  and 
the  greatest  of  musical  geniuses — all  at  one  and 
the  same  time.    With  Bergson's  description  of 
the  role  of  intuition  I  heartily  agree.     In  the 
final  analysis  Bergson  sees  no  line  of  demarca- 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     51 

tion  between  scientific  thought  and  artistic  cre- 
ation. They  are  each  legitimate ;  they  are  each, 
for  its  own  purpose,  vahd.  Literature  does  not 
merely  deal  with  the  accidental  and  the  local 
and  the  temporary:  it  reflects  our  deepest  in- 
sights just  as  faithfully  as  science  or  philoso- 
phy. In  a  period  of  social  stress  literature  be- 
comes a  precious  source  of  knowledge. 

The  reader  will  now  understand  why  an  at- 
tempt to  see  through  the  medium  of  modern 
literature  the  features  and  meaning  of  our 
modern  social  life  is,  to  my  mind,  a  hopeful  and 
important  undertaking.  I  am  not  pretending 
to  make  a  thorough  analysis  of  the  subject;  to 
do  that  would  be  to  write  another  book.  I  wish 
only  to  indicate  the  main  points  of  departure 
and  determine  roughly  the  principal  bound- 
aries. 

Romain  Holland's  "Jean  Christophe"  is  a 
landmark  in  contemporary  literature.  Pre- 
eminently it  is  a  social  novel,  whose  roots  top 
every  level  of  society.  What  are  the  conclu- 
sions to  be  drawn  from  it?  "What  is  the  final 
impression  that  it  leaves?  Briefly  this:  that 
our  society  with  its  dwarfed  standards,  its 
smug,  torpid  self-satisfaction,  has  no  place  for 
youth,    for    creative    activity,    for    individual 


52    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

forces.  In  such  a  society  old  Jean  Christophe, 
lonely  and  sad,  meets  death  without  a  single 
tremor  of  regret.  The  old  half-sarcastic  prin- 
ciple of  Mephisto — ''Enthehren  sollst  du,  sollst 
enthehren"  prevailed  in  every  department. 
Love,  popularity,  personal  satisfaction,  popu- 
lar approbation,  all  these  things  came  either  too 
late  or  not  at  all.  The  real  rulers,  the  real 
kings  of  society,  in  life,  in  art  and  in  politics, 
are  little  newsboys  shouting  extras  on  the 
streets.  Greatness  had  no  place  in  life.  There, 
Rolland  pointed  out,  lay  the  weakness  of  our 
society.  It  had  no  mind  of  its  own,  no  individ- 
uality of  its  own — in  short,  no  integrity.  With 
Holland's  analysis  in  view  the  general  collapse 
of  European  society,  the  world  war,  and  the 
revolutions  were  inevitable.  As  we  read  the 
last  pages  of  his  "Jean  Christophe,"  written  in 
1910-1912,  we  are  amazed  at  Romain  Holland's 
perspicacity.  To  his  mind,  war,  not  as  an  issue 
for  salvation,  but  as  a  destructive  blow  to  all 
that  exists,  was  inevitable.  He  did  not  will  it, 
but  he  felt  its  force  growing  more  and  more. 
He  knew  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  dam 
the  stream.  The  sohd  mass  of  European  so- 
ciety was  moving  toward  war  with  irresistible 
momentum. 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     53 

In  a  recent  novel  by  a  young  Russian  writer, 
Ilya  Sourgouchov,  entitled  "The  Mill,"  there  is 
a  description  of  a  Russian  student,  sitting, 
slightly  drunk,  on  a  bench  in  a  city  park,  look- 
ing into  the  dark  blue  sky  of  the  night,  sprin- 
kled with  myriads  of  stars.  This  student,  Ivan 
Ivanovitch,  says  to  his  friend — "How  corrupt 
is  our  life!  In  the  old  times  we  used  to  walk 
slowly  and  with  dignity.  We  used  to  pray  to 
God  with  devotion  and  faith.  We  were  liv- 
ing, breathing  fresh  air  into  our  free,  healthy 
bodies,  encouraging  our  free,  healthy  spirits. 
And  now  it  is  amazing  in  what  a  hurry  people 
are.  It  seems  that  they  have  no  time,  they 
must  hurry,  they  must  travel  two  hundred 
miles  an  hour.  They  have  to  celebrate  a  mass 
in  twenty  minutes.  The  old  classical  beauty 
has  gone  from  speech.  We  have  little  one-act 
performances,  little  bits  of  ragtime  music,  like 
musical  cakes.  Everything,  everyone,  is  in  a 
hurry  as  if  they  were  all  in  a  big  railroad  sta- 
tion. Why  this  hurry?  People  do  not  know. 
They  are  driven  by  some  kind  of  brutal  force. 
And  what  will  be  the  result?"  (Drunken  Ivan 
Ivanovitch  asks  the  question  with  a  smile.) 
"The  machine  is  going  on  with  such  a  rush,  the 
hurry  is  so  great,  there  must  be  a  wreck.    All 


54    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

will  be  mixed  together.  Nobody  will  be  able 
to  stop  the  great  speed,  and  the  blue  sky  and 
the  golden  stars,  the  railroad  stations,  the  long 
trains,  the  musical  cakes,  all  will  be  broken  to 
pieces  and  will  fall  like  little  drops  of  rain  in  a 
hurricane.  All  will  be  crushed  by  the  swiftly 
speeding  wheel  of  the  world  mill." 

Ivan  Ivanovitch  was,  after  a  fashion,  a 
'prophet.  He  feared  the  hurry.  He  felt  the 
spirit  of  the  times.  His  dream,  half  fantasy, 
half  lyrical  delirium,  is  not  without  meaning. 
Who  was  the  hero  of  our  modern  age?  The 
great  nobody.  What  was  the  aim  of  that  mill- 
like life  ?    A  vast  nothing. 

While  in  1890  the  pessimistic  fighter,  Ibsen, 
represented  the  spirit  of  our  aspirations  and 
ideals,  on  the  eve  of  the  twentieth  century  we 
had  to  face  the  absolute  elimination  of  the  in- 
dividual from  a  life  in  harmonious  adjustment. 
The  new  individualism,  the  post-Ibsen  one, 
tried  to  run  away  from  life  and  what  is  human. 
It  sought  satisfaction  in  artificial  excitations, 
and  that  is  the  real  cause  of  the  sexual  period  in 
literature  some  few  years  ago.  With  Otto 
Weininger  and  his  "Sex  and  Character,"  with 
Artzibasheff  and  "Sanine,"  with  the  revived 
popularity  of  Catulle  Mendes,  and  some  spe- 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     55 

cial  writings  of  Marcel  Prevost,  the  reign  of 
the  boulevard  literature  came  into  being. 

On  the  other  hand,  and  parallel  with  this,  an- 
other process  took  place.  Human  thought, 
tired  and  exhausted,  tried  to  take  refuge  in 
new  forms  which  would  make  it  forget  the  de- 
cay of  dull  standards  and  traditions.  Peter 
Allenberg  is  one  of  the  best  examples  of  that 
kind  of  neurotic  impressionism  which  seeks  re- 
lief from  the  impact  of  reality.  The  dissolute 
brain  under  such  conditions  is  satisfied  by  a 
hint,  by  a  half  word,  without  descriptions,  with- 
out any  naturalistic  rendering  of  life,  since  real 
life  has  lost  its  value  and  its  real  meaning. 
The  human  heart  and  mind  became  less  and 
less  active.  They  were  satisfied  with  individ- 
ual, sometimes  intensely  personal,  contempla- 
tions. The  movement  in  painting  which  is 
called  intimism,  or  the  contemplative  art  of 
the  French  poet,  Francis  Jammes,  are  very 
characteristic  from  this  point  of  view.  One 
has  not  to  be  in  life  in  order  to  live,  or  to 
breathe  life  and  fight  for  it.  It  is  enough  to 
look  over  the  waving  waters  of  a  lake  and  to 
feel  the  intimate  relations  between  the  human 
soul  and  nature's  soul. 

Europe  indeed  had  some  writers  of  the  old 


56    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

school,  with  brains  and  nerves  of  the  old  type, 
— Henry  de  Regnier  in  France,  and  Carl 
Schonherr  in  Germany, — ^but  these  exceptions 
merely  emphasize  the  rule.  It  is  significant, 
for  instance,  that  Jack  London  and  Maxim 
Gorky  were  among  the  most  popular  writers  in 
Europe.  Jack  London  felt  in  America  those 
elements  which  were  imported  from  Europe, 
and  in  a  condensed  and  acute  way  he  made 
them  his  own.  His  "Martin  Eden"  was  a  re- 
markably eloquent  illustration  and  interpre- 
tation of  the  European  mind  and  the  European 
individual.  Even  when  a  great  soul  and  a 
great  character  were  found,  strong  and  vital, — 
and  a  great  soul  was  that  of  Martin  Eden, — 
they  could  live,  aspire,  and  fight  only  as  long 
as  they  were  outside  of  the  general  current, 
somewhere  in  a  dirty  little  six-by-eight  room 
in  Oakland.  Brought  in  the  thick  of  life,  they 
preferred  to  sink  deep  beneath  the  waters  of 
the  Pacific  Ocean. 

In  the  speed  of  the  mill-wheel  of  European 
life  the  education  of  our  spirit  was  diverted  to 
a  very  peculiar  kind  of  interest.  The  internal 
protest  of  the  individual  instead  of  engender- 
ing revolt  and  fight,  degenerated  into  peculiari- 
ties, idosyncrasies.    Peculiarities  took  the  place 


The  Debauch  of  EurojJean  Thought     57 

of  originality,  as,  for  instance,  futurism.     Its 
father,   the   Italian  writer,   Marinetti,   is   the 
most  characteristic  product  of  our  European 
mind.     The  old  and  ever  new,  the  eternal  as- 
piration of  art  to  lift  the  curtain,  to  penetrate 
the  hazy  screen  which  divides  us  from  reality, 
disappeared  little  by  little.    The  street,  the  sig- 
nals of  the  motor  cars,  the  tremor  of  trains, 
took  the  place  of  initiative  and  penetration  into 
life.      Queer,   weird,    combinations    of    colors 
without  any  meaning;  colored  cows,  painted 
horses,  black  noses,  light  blue  hair,  red  ears, 
navy  blue  hands,   all  that  was   strange   and 
weird  and  startling  because  of  its  weirdness, 
became  the  object  and  the  subject  of  futurism. 
There  was  no  other  refuge,  no  other  escape 
from  the  old  materials,  and  those  who  had  con- 
served in  their  souls  the  old  feelings  and  the 
old  appreciations  of  hfe,  were  busily  recording 
the  tendencies  of  our  time  and  describing  the 
melancholy  sinking  of  our  sun.     Wasserman, 
Kellerman,    even    old    Knut    Hamsun,    the 
teacher  of  Kellerman,  saw  humanity  as  flot- 
sam on  the  waves  of  the  turbulent  and  unhappy 
sea  of  life.     Nagel,  in  "The  Mysteries,"  by 
Hamsun,  might  have  other  reasons  and  motives 
than  those  of  Martin  Eden  for  finding  his 


58    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

place  also  beneath  the  water,  but  he  was  con- 
fronted by  the  same  conditions,  the  same  sterile 
outlook. 

The  terrible  pangs  of  hunger,  the  loneliness 
and  hopelessness  which  we  find  even  in  the 
songs  of  love  in  "Victoria,"  or  in  the  pass- 
ing shades  of  Builder  Solness'  life,  are  the 
main  chords  of  the  melancholy  European 
song. 

When  a  European  writer  did  have  a  concep- 
tion of  strength,  of  creative  and  persistent 
power,  he  was  forced  to  leave  his  European 
soil  and  to  transform  his  hero  into  an  Ameri- 
can as  did  Kellerman  in  his  "Tunnel."  The 
remarkable  engineer,  Allan,  who  wanted  to 
connect  two  continents  by  means  of  a  tun- 
nel under  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean, 
could  not  have  been  a  European.  He  was  too 
strong,  had  too  much  life;  too  much  of  the 
spirit  burned  in  him. 

These  facts  perhaps  explain  the  popularity 
of  the  Russian  author  Chekhov,  in  Germany, 
in  France,  and  in  England  during  the  last  few 
years  and  even  now.  And  still  Chekhov  tells 
only  stories  of  the  tired  Russia  of  the  'nineties, 
the  land  of  gray  human  beings,  of  dull  lives; 
the  writer  of  our  intemperie  when  there  was 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought    59 

no  definite  life,  no  definite  aspirations;  the 
painter  of  many  melancholy  dreams,  and  too 
few  thoughts;  too  many  words  and  too  few- 
actions. 

Three  names  of  men  who  were  popular  dur- 
ing the  last  few  years  throughout  Europe  are 
worthy  of  note — Oscar  Wilde,  Dostoyevsky, 
and  William  J.  Locke.  Wilde  belongs  in 
Europe  to  the  decadents,  to  the  sexual  period 
of  Otto  Weininger.  At  the  present  moment 
our  special  interest  lies  not  in  his  aesthetic 
theories  or  in  his  philosophy  of  subtilizing 
pleasure.  What  is  characteristic  of  his  in- 
fluence is  his  philosophy  of  suffering  as  ex- 
pressed in  "De  Profundis,"  his  idea  of  the 
leaden  weight  of  the  boy  prince  who  had  to 
love  but  had  no  heart.  When  life  is  unable  to 
give  joy  one  tries  to  idealize  suffering.  When 
love  is  corrupted  and  reduced  to  Artzibasheff 's 
physiology,  or  to  the  subtle  flirtation  of  CatuUe 
Mendes,  a  human  being  becomes  a  prince  with- 
out a  heart.  The  swallow  loves  the  prince  and 
suffers  for  him,  but  has  to  acknowledge  finally 
that  the  prince  is  a  bronze  statue  and  his  eyes 
are  only  precious  stones,  which  look  but  do  not 
see,  whose  tears  are  only  drops  of  cold 
autumnal  rain. 


60    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

The  tragedy  of  those  who  think  and  those 
who  love  was  not  only  the  eternal  tragedy  of 
the  individual  who  is  lonely  among  crowds,  but 
the  tragedy  of  a  dying  energy.  The  loneli- 
ness of  Lord  Byron,  his  intense  unhappiness, 
did  not  prevent  him  from  enjoying  life,  during 
his  famous  Italian  period.  It  did  not  prevent 
him  from  dying  for  Greece's  freedom,  although 
he  knew  the  tragedy  of  "The  Prisoner  of  Chil- 
lon."  The  modern  individual  lies  in  Reading 
gaol  and  suffers,  and  that  is  all. 

William  J.  Locke,  a  star  obviously  of  the 
second  order,  was,  during  the  last  of  the  pre- 
war years,  the  most  popular  writer  in  Europe. 
This  subtly  cultured  man,  with  his  sophisti- 
cated brain  and  amazing  erudition,  is  a  real 
contemporary  European.  He  employs  all  the 
elements  of  life  as  keen  tools  for  excitement, 
mental,  intellectual,  spiritual  and  sensual.  He 
does  not  care  very  much,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
about  the  significance  of  life  and  love.  He 
simply  gives  society  a  cinematographic  reel  of 
sometimes  exotic,  sometimes  elegantly  Pari- 
sian, sometimes  wild,  primitive  pictures,  and 
covers  the  whole  business  with  the  web  of  "The 
Morals  of  Marcus  Ordeyne,"  a  simple,  lazj^ 
disappointed,     discouraged    European,    who 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     61 

thinks  in  formulas  of  all  philosophies,  smokes 
cigarettes,  writes  a  diary,  and  is  out  of  life  for 
a  very  simple  reason.  Having  all  the  advan- 
tages of  a  modern  European,  disappointment, 
indifference,  good  taste,  and  leisure,  he  pos- 
sesses an  atavism,  a  disadvantage, — moral 
honesty. 

And  last,  Dostoyevsky,  the  one  author  who 
remained  popular  after  the  period  of  the  new 
romanticism  and  the  revival  of  Nietzsche. 
Dostoyevsky,  who  is  read  as  extensively  in 
France,  in  England,  in  Germany,  as  he  is  in 
Russia,  is  perhaps  the  most  interpretative  ex- 
ample of  our  European  spirit.  Full  of  ner- 
vous revolt,  unhealthy  protest,  anarchistic  as- 
pirations, all  combined  with  a  reactionary, 
sarcastic  disposition,  Dostoyevsky's  superman 
never  became  mad,  as  did  Nietzsche.  He  has 
always  normal  reactions,  but  he  is  "possessed." 
One  can  never  forget  that  "The  Possessed"  of 
Dostoyevsky  are  practically  normal  human  be- 
ings. They  are  "possessed"  only  in  so  far  as 
they  play  a  part  in  a  corrupt  social  life.  It  is 
a  mistake  to  consider  this  novel  of  Dostoyevsky 
as  a  realistic  picture  of  a  part  of  Russian  so- 
ciety. It  is  rather  a  protest  against  and  a 
calumniation  of  those  who  dare  to  dream  of 


62    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe  ' 

fighting  against  the  general  social  and  political 
regime.  "Crime  and  Punishment"  are  both  ex- 
citing elements  of  modern  life.  Punishment  is 
not  that  high  conception  of  which  Tolstoy 
speaks,  when  he  quotes  the  Gospel  at  the  be- 
ginning of  Anna  Karenina,  but  is  an  institu- 
tion against  a  crime  which  is  practically 
permitted  but  only  to  certain  people  and  under 
certain  forms.  He  who  dares  to  violate  the 
general  forms  will  be  brutally  punished.  Ras- 
kolnikoff  had  no  right  to  kill  the  old  woman, 
but  the  many  hundreds  of  thousands  who  were 
killed  in  Russian  gaols,  in  the  colonial  expedi- 
tions of  European  states,  on  the  streets  of 
Paris,  London,  and  Berlin,  with  their  "pois- 
oned atmosphere"  of  morphine,  cocaine,  and 
ether,  were  victims  legally  killed,  by  legal 
forms,  of  the  legally  existing  legal  society. 
Dostoyevsky's  value  for  modern  Europe  lay  in 
his  anarchistic,  atrocious,  unhealthy  pessimism, 
and  as  such  he  is  one  of  the  beloved  European 
authors. 

But  the  most  characteristic  social  feature  of 
our  European  literature  has  still  to  be  inter-^ 
preted — it  is   something  for  which  I  cannot 
find  a  better  word  than  the  French  "boule- 
vard/^    Boulevard   literature,    street   stories, 


The  Debauch  of  Epropean  Thought     63 

sensational  "stuff,"  gutter  fiction  were  ram- 
pant. There  was  a  general  lack  of  imagina- 
tion, of  real  creative  intuition,  of  new  pictures, 
and  new  terms  which  are  to  be  transformed 
into  life,  and  a  new  life  which  is  to  be  trans- 
formed into  new  terms.  There  remained  only 
the  crude  primitive  imagination  of  the  earliest 
years  of  childhood.  Therefore  the  most  popu- 
lar art — if  it  can  be  called  art — of  recent  years 
in  Europe  confined  itself  to  detective  stories, 
sensational  reports  of  killings,  suicides,  and  all 
those  events  which  temporarily  stimulate  the 
jaded,  easily  satisfied  tastes  of  the  crowded 
city  boulevards.  Thus,  little  by  little,  real  art 
was  displaced  by  the  cinematograph,  which  is 
well  known  in  Europe  under  the  name  of  the 
great  "dumb."  Words  were  worn  out  to  such 
an  extent,  and  had  become  so  banal,  so  dull, 
that  there  was  no  longer  any  need  of  them. 
The  intuitive  content  and  substance  of  art  was 
necessary  to  an  exhausted  imagination  and  a 
mechanistic  society.  The  pre-war  years  may 
be  called  the  decade  of  the  decay  of  artistic 
aspirations.  Such  exceptions  as  Rodin  in 
sculpture,  and  Max  Reinhard  and  Gordon 
Craig  in  the  theater,  only  make  the  general 
decay  more  pronounced.    A  Russian  proverb 


64    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

says,  "the  darker  the  night  the  brighter  the 
stars,"  but  the  opposite  of  this  is  also  true. 
The  stars  brought  out  the  blackness  of  the 
night :  and  the  night  was  everywhere. 

From  the  masterpieces  in  our  literary  field 
— the  most  popular  until  recently — Hedda 
Gabbler  and  Builder  Solness,  Uncle  Vanya 
and  The  Three  Sisters — we  can  only  deduce 
that  the  few  remaining  vital  forces  of  individ- 
uals were  dying,  smothered  into  oblivion  by 
the  stolid  weight  of  a  mechanical  society.  Life 
could  not  go  on  in  that  fashion  without  losing 
its  driving  force.  Society  itself  was  suffering 
from  a  sort  of  elephantiasis  which  slowed  up 
its  motions  and  threatened  to  prostrate  it  by 
the  effect  of  its  own  weight.  This  condition 
could  not  last  any  longer.  Of  whatever  kind 
it  might  be,  a  revolution  had  to  take  place. 
From  whatever  quarter  it  might  come,  a  de- 
structive flood  of  insurgent  human  impulses 
had  to  sweep  over  Europe  and  carry  away  all 
debris  and  decay  that  the  century  of  Napoleon- 
ism  had  accumulated.  To  evoke  a  new  crea- 
tive impetus,  or  to  create  a  new  impetus,  was 
the  drastic  demand  of  the  situation.  The  chan- 
nels of  life  were  blocked.  Destruction  in  one 
form  or  another,  war  or  revolution  matters 


The  Debauch  of  European  Thought     65 

little,  was  necessary  to  open  them.    Mind  and 
soul  felt  the  innate  necessity  for  release. 

That  is  what  Romain  Holland  sensed — and 
he  was  right.    The  war  came. 


CHAPTER  III 


THE   MORASS    OF   WAE 


The  war  came.  It  came  not  so  much  to 
extinguish  European  civilization  as  to  show 
us  more  incisively  what  European  civilization 
was.  It  has  become  a  platitude  to  say  that  the 
great  conflict  was  the  result  of  economic  causes : 
we  need  not  altogether  spurn  this  interpreta- 
tion in  order  to  see  that  roots  of  the  evil  went 
below  the  subsoil  of  capitalism  and  struck  the 
very  bedrock  of  our  spiritual  life.  The  war 
was  a  fungus  that  drew  nourishment  from  the 
dead  tissue  of  the  European  spirit.  But  for 
the  decay  of  European  civilization  the  war 
could  not  have  fastened  upon  society  and 
blighted  the  whole  face  of  existence. 

Doubtless  the  economic  motives,  especially 
as  they  affected  the  statesmen,  the  industrial- 
ists, and  the  financiers,  are  among  the  immedi- 
ate causes  of  the  disaster,  and  I  shall  try  to 
indicate  their  bearing  more  clearly  in  a  subse- 

66 


The  Morass  of  War  67 

quent  chapter.  In  back  of  them,  however, 
lay  more  ultimate  elements  which  account  for 
the  destructive  insurgence  of  martial  effort  in 
every  walk  of  life.  Economic  factors  might 
have  pricked  the  governments  to  diplomatic 
competition,  but  against  these  surface  mani- 
festations of  belligerency,  society,  as  such,  could 
have  firmly  held  its  ground.  The  Russo- 
Japanese  war,  for  example,  was  also  an  eco- 
nomic war,  but  for  all  that  it  encountered  an- 
tagonism in  Russia  on  every  side,  and  its  un- 
popularity led  to  revolutionary  disaffection. 
The  interesting  peculiarity  about  the  Great 
War,  on  the  contrary,  was  its  popularity 
among  all  the  belligerent  peoples.  I  have  en- 
deavored to  indicate  the  reasons  for  this  and 
to  expose  the  factors  which  paralyzed  the  re- 
sistance of  the  masses.  Intelligent  observers 
who  lived  in  Europe  in  the  ante-bellum  days, 
and  who  observed  European  conditions,  saw 
clearly  that  society,  without  respect  to  class 
lines,  was  rapidly  collapsing,  and  many  of 
them  came  to  the  conclusion  that  a  stimulating 
injection  was  necessary  in  order  to  rouse  it 
from  its  deep  lethargic  repose.  The  spirit  of 
"apres  mot  le  deluge"  had  impregnated  the  en- 
tire mind  and  soul  of  Europe.    A  thoughtful 


68    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

individual  of  creative  inclinations  faced  an  al- 
most homogeneous  mass  of  incredulity,  coupled 
with  absolute  indifference  to  new  ideas  and 
thought.  More  and  more  influenced  by  the 
"levelization"  I  have  referred  to,  this  mass  re- 
mained an  unassimilable  and  immovable  lump. 
It  is  hard  to  say  whether  the  purely  mechanical 
policy  of  capitalistic  society  had  of  set  purpose 
so  educated  the  masses  as  to  make  them  in- 
capable of  advancing  in  civilization,  or  whether 
the  masses  themselves  were  moved  by  more  im- 
personal forces  to  the  same  impasse.  But  as 
far  as  results  go  it  matters  little.  Potentially, 
society  possessed  vast  reservoirs  of  knowledge 
— the  war  brought  that  fact  out  by  repeated 
demonstrations — but  every  attempt  to  tap  that 
reservoir  and  harness  it  directly  to  the  vital 
activities  of  society  was  forced  to  encounter 
an  apathetic  resistance  which  rarely  could  be 
overcome.  Hence  our  knowledge  remained  un- 
utilized and  our  energies  were  frittered  away 
in  anti-social  and  immoral  diversions. 

Illustrative  of  the  weakness  of  our  social 
values  was  the  overwhelming  attention  to  a 
"high  standard  of  living."  This  was  currently 
supposed  to  be  a  main  factor  in  civilization. 

Everything  was  centered  on  a  general  drive 


The  Morass  of  War  69 

for  prosperity.  The  outlook  and  ambitions  of 
the  French  "rentier"  or  of  the  German  Biirger 
permeated  the  European  masses.  The  growth 
and  spread  of  so-called  "Christian  Socialism," 
a  movement  that  popularized  submission  and 
passiveness  among  the  Austrian  and  German 
proletariat  were  significant,  as  indicative  of  a 
conservative  state  of  mind  which  aimed  at 
nothing  higher  than  the  acquisition  of  mate- 
rial values.  Instead  of  finding  a  vigorous  de- 
velopment of  ideas  within  the  ranks  of  the 
proletariat  or  the  advanced  intellectuals,  we 
had  to  deal  in  these  groups  with  the  same 
spirit  that  animated  the  bourgeoisie — the  at- 
tainment of  immediate  well  being.  It  was  a 
period  of  social  disintegration.  The  spirit  of 
solidarity  was  destroyed,  the  spirit  that  rises 
sometimes  from  the  depth  of  the  national  heart, 
and  shows  that  we  are  more  than  an  accidental 
concourse  of  individuals.  A  "gasolineless 
Sunday"  is  more  eloquent  sometimes  than  any 
statistical  standard  of  living,  and  the  war  in 
Europe  emphasized  these  features.  The  so- 
called  "profiteers"  in  England  and  America, 
the  "accapareurs"  in  France,  the  speculator 
in  Russia,  the  "Roi  Ziep"  in  Belgium,  and  the 
Kriegsgewinner  in  Germany  are  illustrative 


70    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

types  whose  conduct  flagrantly  typified  the 
time.  Certainly  there  has  always  been  in  every 
war  a  group  that  fattened  on  the  misery  of  the 
thousands,  but  this  last  war  has  shown  a  gen- 
eral, an  almost  universal  tendency  towards  sel- 
fish profiteering.  Before  the  Russian  revolu- 
tion even,  the  most  patriotic  of  all  the  belliger- 
ent nations,  France,  had  many  so-called  "em- 
husques"  (people  who  escaped  from  the  front 
on  some  pretext  and  found  safe  positions  in 
the  rear),  and  there  were  many  more  in  Rus- 
sia and  Germany.  Yet  our  exhausted  and 
morally  empty  society  accepted  the  war  with- 
out a  protest,  without  any  attempt  at  resist- 
ance, because  it  was  a  tragically  dramatic  re- 
lief from  a  dull  banal  life. 

I  recall  the  situation  in  August,  1918,  when 
I  spent  some  time  in  Hungary,  in  Austria, 
and  in  Germany.  It  was  a  revelation  to  me  to 
see  that  these  peoples  who  were  suffering  in- 
tensely from  the  war,  who  were  weary  of  it, 
were  still  enthusiastic.  They  were  fighting  a 
fight  for  life  and  death.  The  national  spirit 
in  Berlin,  in  Vienna,  or  in  Budapest  was 
hardly  less  than  that  of  Petrograd  and  Mos- 
cow under  Kerensky.  A  friend  of  mine,  an 
Austrian  literary  man,  who  was  very  bitter 


The  Morass  of  War  71 

against  the  war,  said  to  me  one  day :  "You  do 
not  know !  You  do  not  know !  Surely  for  you 
the  Allies  are  not  merely  allies,  but  saviours  of 
democracy ;  but  we  know,  because  we  know  our 
faults,  that  they  want  to  smother  us.  They 
want  to  close  us  within  the  iron  band  of  their 
military  power.  You  are  happy  in  the  free- 
dom you  have  so  long  wanted,  but  we  are  not 
guilty  because  of  having  a  Berchthold  or  a 
Tisza.  Had  we  not  had  them,  France,  two  or 
three  or  five  years  later,  would  have  produced 
a  Berchthold  or  a  Bethmann-Hollweg,  and  they 
would  have  been  the  aggressors."  Then  he 
added  with  a  smile,  "And  perhaps  we  would 
then  have  been  the  Allies  of  democracy." 

Had  I  read  these  words  in  a  book  or  news- 
paper before  I  left  Russia  I  would  have  ac- 
cepted them  with  a  skeptical  smile,  but  after 
witnessing  the  ravages  of  the  war  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  Central  Powers,  I  felt  how  right, 
how  profoundly  right,  this  Austrian  friend  of 
mine — Dr.  Richard  Berman — was.  When, 
later,  I  saw  Hungary  and  the  rear  of  the 
Italian  front, — ^when  I  had  looked  at  the  ex- 
hausted soldiers,  weak,  hungry,  pale,  and  ill, 
walking  shadows  of  human  beings,  I  foresaw 
that  we  were  at  the  beginning  of  the  end ;  that 


72    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  Allies  would  win  the  victory.  My  cold 
reason  told  me  that  their  victory  would  be  the 
lesser  of  two  evils,  and  therefore,  theoretically, 
I  was  glad.  But  I  felt  a  deep  sorrow,  too,  and 
above  all  a  terrible  and  terrifying  apprehen- 
sion, as  to  the  fate  of  the  people.  When  I  saw 
on  the  shores  of  the  beautiful  Danube  some 
four  or  five  hundred  INIagyar  and  Croatian  sol- 
diers lying  in  the  hot  sun,  eating  with  avidity 
rotten  watermelons  that  had  been  thrown  away 
as  unfit  for  food,  I  asked  myself,  "Who  is 
right?"  I  understood  as  did  everybody  else, 
that  Kaiser  Wilhelm  and  the  Austrian  Em- 
peror were  using  these  suffering  men  as  mere 
tools,  but  what  made  these  men  fight;  what 
made  them  willing  to  suffer  hunger,  misery, 
illness,  unspeakable  wretchedness,  and  still 
continue  to  fight  ?  It  is  a  question  of  more  than 
psychological  significance.  They  fought  for 
the  same  reason  as  did  the  Russians,  the  Eng- 
lish, the  French,  and  the  Italian  soldiers.  They 
fought  because  pre-war  Europe  had  eradicated 
individual  aspirations  and  human  feelings  from 
the  people;  because  pre-war  Europe  had  en- 
riched the  life  of  the  people  with  nothing  more 
than  the  barren  formalities  of  civilization — to 
know  how  to  read  and  write,  to  have  a  high 


The  Morass  of  War  73 

percentage  of  literacy.  That  was  the  "enlight- 
enment" of  which  the  European  State  boasted. 
But  it  did  not  mean  that  the  people  were  edu- 
cated. The  state  did  not  care.  In  fact,  it 
rather  feared  education,  because  education 
makes  people  self-conscious,  and  teaches  con- 
trol of  the  instincts  by  reason  and  love.  The 
common  people  fought,  therefore,  because  they 
were  a  mass,  a  mob  that  attributed  to  the  physi- 
cal enemy  in  the  trenches  the  terrible  frustra- 
tion of  their  spiritual  Hfe.  It  would  have  been 
strange  could  they  have  recognized  their  real 
enemy,  and  prepared  themselves  to  fight  the 
real  fight ! 

There  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube,  with  the 
wonderful  royal  palace  and  the  architecturally 
beautiful  Parliament  buildings  on  one  side,  and 
on  the  other  the  mass  of  dirty  soldiers  eating 
rotten  watermelons,  I  remembered  a  descrip- 
tion of  Napoleon's  campaign  in  Italy,  which  I 
had  read  in  a  volume  by  Frederick  Masson. 
Young  soldiers,  sixteen  years  of  age,  used  to 
cry  like  babies  deserted  by  their  mothers  when 
Napoleon  was  driving  them  through  the  moun- 
tains of  Italy,  smeared  with  blood  and  steeped 
in  misery,  "to  bring  freedom  to  Italy."  Who 
was  the  liberator  of  Italy — Napoleon  or  Gari- 


74    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

baldi  ?  I  saw  no  Garibaldi  on  either  side  of  the 
struggle  in  this  war.  I  saw  no  light  and  no 
right  on  either  side.  Napoleon  commanded 
both  the  victor  and  the  defeated.  .  .  . 

On  one  of  the  battlefields  of  Galicia  in  July, 
1917,  immediately  after  an  infantry  attack,  I 
came  across  a  healthy-looking  giant  of  a  Ger- 
man soldier,  dying  in  hysterical  convulsions. 
Two  Russian  soldiers  had  brought  some  cold 
water  and  were  endeavoring  to  help  him.  He 
kept  on  crying  and  shivering  until  he  lost  con- 
sciousness entirely.  I  followed  the  men  as 
they  carried  him  to  the  nearest  Red  Cross  tent, 
where  he  was  brought  back  to  consciousness. 
He  was  not  wounded  and  when  he  had  recov- 
ered a  little  I  asked  him,  "How  long  have  you 
been  at  the  front?"  "Three  years,"  he  an- 
swered in  a  tone  of  utter  despair,  "three  years," 
and  the  hysterical  crying  began  again. 

The  Russian  social  thinker,  Mikhailovsky, 
was  accustomed  to  make  a  fine  discrimination 
between  two  aspects  of  truth — truth-verity  and 
truth- justice.  I  saw  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life  both  these  truths  in  this  German  soldier. 
I  saw  neither  on  either  side  of  the  battlefield 
itself.  I  was  convinced  that  war  was  not  the 
issue  or  the  way  out.     War  is  war,  and  all 


Tlie  Morass  of  War  75 

through  the  wars  of  Alexander  the  Great, 
Xerxes  of  Persia,  and  Hannibal;  through 
those  of  Napoleon  and  Moltke  down  to  the 
present  war,  war  was  always  war.  Never  has 
it  brought  any  solution  of  our  problems. 
Never  has  it  helped  civilization  a  step  forward. 
War  may,  perhaps,  be  inevitable  at  this  pres- 
ent stage  of  society,  but  it  is  inevitable  only 
in  the  sense  in  which  smallpox  is  inevitable — 
the  only  difference  being  that  it  does  not  bring 
any  immunity  afterwards. 

Nicholas  Morosov,  a  Russian  scientist  and 
revolutionist,  who  was  imprisoned  twenty-nine 
years  in  solitary  confinement,  one  day,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Volga,  noticed  a  group  of  little 
boys  armed  with  sticks  and  wooden  swords, 
playing  at  soldiers.  He  remarked: — "War 
will  be  done  with,  abolished  as  an  institution, 
not  when  international  leagues  and  parliaments 
have  agreed  that  there  shall  be  no  more  war, 
but  only  when  our  children  play  no  more  at 
being  soldiers."  I  am  reminded  of  Maupas- 
sant, who  took  part  in  the  campaign  of  1870, 
who  was  perhaps  more  bitter  against  the  Prus- 
sians than  Clemenceau  a  couple  of  generations 
later.  He  said  that  all  human  beings  feel  an 
imperative  necessity  to  destroy,  to  kill.    They 


76    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

kill  insects,  and  animals,  for  our  pleasure. 
(Read  his  wonderful  novel,  "The  Wolf.") 
And  in  some  periods  of  history  they  kill  them- 
selves, and  call  it  "national  defense,"  "holy 
war,"  etc.  Somewhere  else  he  says  that  when 
the  captain  of  a  vessel  fails  to  rescue  his  ship 
from  wreck  he  is  brought  before  judges  with- 
out regard  to  his  actual  guilt.  Why  then,  he 
asks,  are  not  the  governments  that  failed  to 
prevent  the  war  brought  before  a  popular  tri- 
bunal after  a  war?  A  government  is  a  captain, 
and  it  has  a  right  to  its  name  only  when  it 
either  sinks  with  its  ship  or  rescues  the  ship 
and  the  crew.  But  no  government  has  a  right 
to  begin  a  war  or  to  respond  to  a  call  for  war. 
We  have  not  yet  perhaps  reached  the  stage 
where  governments  are  captains  and  children 
cease  to  play  with  sticks  for  rifles  and  paper 
caps  for  helmets;  but  the  last  five  years  have 
made  one  thing  clear:  no  war  under  any  ban- 
ner can  ever  be  justified.  There  must  be  some 
other  method  of  reaching  a  decision.  A  war 
against  war  jnust  be  accomplished  without 
mobilization  and  without  tanks :  if  it  is  carried 
on  with  old  weapons  it  cannot  possibly  achieve 
new  results.  To  fight  Mars  in  armor  is  to  as- 
sault him  in  his  strongest  position,  and  to  ac- 


The  Morass  of  War  77 

cept  his  challenge  on  his  own  terms.  His  weak 
point  is  not  his  armor  but  his  head.  Let  us 
not  be  blinded  by  wily  metaphors.  The  paci- 
fist who  treated  war  as  a  disease  and  was  will- 
ing to  be  innoculated  preventively  should  real- 
ize by  now  that  the  vaccination  was  more  dis- 
astrous than  smallpox  could  have  been.  We 
must  evolve  an  entirely  new  technique  for  deal- 
ing with  war.  I  do  not  pretend  to  have  any 
methods  of  my  own,  or  to  have  discovered  par- 
ticular merit  in  those  of  anvone  else,  which 
would  encourage  the  immediate  hope  of  abol- 
ishing the  irrational  and  brutal  and  ultimately 
useless  methods  that  have  so  long  prevailed. 
I  am  content  to  point  out  the  necessity. 

Viewed  as  a  single  dramatic  act,  it  would 
seem  that  the  past  war  was  a  simple  act  of  self- 
destruction.  By  this  terrible  and  drastic 
method  European  society  expiated  almost  a 
century  of  hypocrisy.  The  testimony  of  Pro- 
fessor Friedrich  Foerster  of  Munich  should 
remind  us  sharply  of  our  sins  on  this  score. 
One  looks  in  vain  through  intellectual  circles 
in  Europe  for  a  more  sterling  moralist  than 
Professor  Foerster.  In  the  furnace  heat  of 
war  patriotism  Foerster  remained  honestly  and 
sincerely    pro-ally,    as    long    as    the    Allies 


78    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

deserved  sympathy — an  anti- German  who 
could  stand  out  even  among  Frenchmen.  As 
an  exile  from  his  home  country,  who  suffered 
for  his  beliefs,  Foerster  cannot  be  suspected  of 
pro-Germanism.  Yet  with  his  knowledge  of 
the  faults  and  crimes  of  Germany  he  believed 
that  a  sincere  inquirer  would  find  that  the  pe- 
culiar guilt  of  Prussia  and  her  satellite  states 
consisted  only  in  the  systematic  and  wantonly 
rigorous  fashion  that  she  carried  out  the  ac- 
cepted principles  of  statecraft  and  strategy. 
A  thorough  analysis  would  disclose,  in  other 
words,  that  Prussia's  crime  consisted  not  in 
being  differently  brutal  but  in  being  perfectly 
brutal.  Prussianism  was  simply  a  mature  form 
of  Gallicism  or  Russianism.  The  underlying 
psychology,  even  the  final  outcome,  was  the 
same. 

In  a  sense  the  war  created  no  new  conditions, 
no  new  problems,  no  new  solutions.  The  chief 
function  of  the  war  was  to  open  our  eyes  to 
conditions  and  problems  that  had  long  existed. 
Because  of  the  fact  that  our  eyes  have  indeed 
to  some  extent  been  opened,  many  earnest  peo- 
ple have  deluded  themselves  into  beheving  that 
the  conflict  was  a  great  blessing — or,  at  any 
rate,  that  it  will  prove  a  great  blessing  in  the 


The  Morass  of  War  79 

long  run.  They  are  justified  in  their  optimism 
only  to  the  extent  that  it  is  true  that  our  short- 
sighted European  society  cared  about  nothing 
that  vitally  concerned  its  existence,  and  had  to 
be  bathed  in  blood  before  it  could  understand 
the  daily  necessity  for  water. 

But  they  were  wrong  because  the  conse- 
quences of  the  war  are  so  incompatible  with  its 
results  and  lessons.  What  advantage  is  it  for 
more  people  to  know  that  nations  ought  not  to 
be  suppressed;  that  our  economic  and  indus- 
trial life  must  be  reconstructed?  Is  Germany 
not  enslaved  by  the  peace  treaty  ?  Are  millions 
of  people  not  oppressed  by  foreign  rule? 
Egypt!  India!  Ireland!  Russia  by  the  Al- 
lies? Part  of  Hungary  by  the  Czechs?  Part 
of  Russia  by  the  Roumanians?  Part  of  China 
by  the  Japanese? 

All  these  "new"  problems  only  illustrate  that 
the  forces  which  engendered  the  war  have 
grown  stronger;  that  the  purposes  which  cor- 
rupted our  society  and  international  life  are 
still  uppermost  in  our  minds.  Is  it  not  signifi- 
cant that  in  the  French  Chamber  of  Depu- 
ties the  peace  treaty  was  opposed  because  Ger- 
many was  not  disarmed  and  not  sufficiently 
punished,  and  because  the  guarantees  were  not 


80    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

sufficiently  strong?  A  new  triple  alliance, 
Great  Britain,  France,  and  the  United  States, 
is  proposed  at  Versailles — a  more  immoral 
weapon  than  even  Bismarck  forged  in  his  Aus- 
trian-German combination.  Moltke,  Bis- 
marck's Hindenburg,  once  said  that  war  pre- 
vents us  from  falling  into  the  most  degrading 
materialism,  and  egotism.  Our  modern  war- 
makers  and  peace-makers  may  speak  of  this 
war  differently,  but  they  act  in  the  very  spirit 
of  Moltke's  remark. 

War  was  never  a  spring  of  progress.  War, 
and  especially  a  victorious  war,  never  brought 
any  contribution  to  the  development  and  hap- 
piness of  human  beings.  The  tears  of  Jules 
Favre,  who  wept  on  Bismarck's  shoulder  under 
the  walls  of  Paris,  are  forgotten  or  entirely  un- 
known. But  those  tears  of  a  devoted  repre- 
sentative of  a  defeated  army  were  very 
significant.  They  were  perhaps  more  danger- 
ous than  the  self-satisfaction  of  the  victor. 
Clemenceau  has  proved  that.  He  took  re- 
venge. Many  tears  are  now  being  shed  in  the 
defeated  countries.  But  a  lost  war,  a  defeat 
(it  must  be  remembered  now  that  the  war  is 
over),  is  more  than  an  idea  in  the  so-called 
"defeatist"  theory  of  the  Russian  opponents  of 


The  Morass  of  War  81 

the  war.  When  Russia  lost  the  war  with  Tur- 
key in  1855  it  resulted  in  the  inauguration  of 
new  reforms.  In  1861  serfdom  was  abolished. 
In  1864  a  new  civil  court  was  established.  But 
when  Russia  won  the  war  with  Turkey  in  1876 
reaction  began,  and  Alexander  II  was  killed. 
When  Russia  lost  the  war  with  Japan,  in  1904, 
a  constitution  and  a  parliament,  limited  in- 
deed, were  given  to  the  Russian  people.  But 
when  the  Russian  armies  advanced  successfully 
on  the  fields  of  GaHcia  in  1915  a  reaction  began 
in  Russia,  and  only  after  the  Galician  defeat 
did  the  Tsar's  throne  begin  to  shake,  and  cause 
him  to  make  concessions.  A  year  later  it  was 
too  late.  As  long  as  Napoleon  the  Third 
fought  successfully  he  could  be  the  second  Em- 
peror. As  soon  as  he  was  defeated  at  Sedan 
the  signal  of  liberation  was  given  in  France. 
Even  Bismarck,  in  1870,  the  First  Chancellor 
of  the  First  German  Empire,  was  more  liberal 
than  the  new  democracy  of  1919.  Bismarck 
did  not  interfere  with  French  internal  affairs, 
and  France  established  her  Third  Repub- 
lic. The  modern  parliamentary  "democratic" 
states,  on  the  other  hand,  have  persistently  in- 
terfered with  the  internal  constitution  of  Rus- 
sia, even  in  the  face  of  resistance  by  popular 


82    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

majorities.  Austria  is  unable  to  do  what  her 
constituent  assembly  decided.  She  is  prohib- 
ited from  uniting  with  Germany  because,  prac- 
tically, the  peace  treaty  established,  not  self- 
determination  for  Austria,  but  the  continental 
hegemony  of  France.  If  this  be  progress, 
democratic  progress,  what  is  reaction? 

Among  the  other  lessons  of  the  war  one  in 
particular  is  worthy  of  note — the  behavior  of 
the  intellectuals.  It  confronts  us  with  remark- 
able anomalies  which  are  not  solved  by  the 
Marxian  formula  that  a  man  always  expresses 
the  psychology  of  his  economic  class.  With 
Mikhailovsky  and  especially  Lavrov  I  believe 
that  the  intellectual  groups  in  a  nation  repre- 
sent the  quintessence  of  national,  social,  and 
human  aspirations.  At  their  best  the  intelli- 
gentzia are  a  group  of  critically  thinking  indi- 
viduals whose  thought  rises  above  that  of  any 
social  group  or  class.  The  leaders  of  the  Eu- 
ropean Socialists  exemplify  this  characteristic; 
for  they  are  mostly  not  laboring  men,  and  they 
have  for  the  large  part  been  compelled  to  turn 
their  backs  on  the  class  that  economically 
claimed  their  allegiance.  Lenin  is  but  the  lat- 
est witness  to  this  truth.  A  noble  from  Sim- 
birsk, at  one  time  a  rich  man,  he  organized  the 


The  Morass  of  War  83 

most  proletarian  revolution  in  all  history.  His 
example  might  be  multiplied.  Anatole  France, 
Henri  Barbusse,  and  many  Russian  revolution- 
ists of  noble  descent  in  one  way  or  another  sac- 
rificed their  place  in  "society"  in  order  to  aid 
Society. 

Nevertheless,  if  the  intellectuals  have  freed 
themselves  from  economic  claims,  they  present 
another  kind  of  bias  which  was  not  allowed  for 
by  Marx.  The  University  of  Jena  in  1915 
gave  a  prize  for  the  best  thesis  on  the  subject, 
"Enghsh  Cant."  The  famous  French  mu- 
sician. Saint  Saens,  so  hated  all  the  Germans 
that  he  vilified  Wagner  as  a  "Prussian."  Rus- 
sian professors  of  philosophy  tried  to  derive 
the  armament  of  Krupp  from  the  firmament  of 
Kant.  If  the  national  and  social  spirit  of  a 
people  was  reflected  anywhere,  in  any  way,  it 
was  in  the  spirit  of  the  leading  intellectuals. 
There  was  a  phenomenon  which  must  give  us 
pause.  Was  it  not  strange  to  see  Gustav 
Herve  among  the  mihtaristic  haters  of  Ger- 
many ;  Scheidemann  a  member  of  Kaiser  Wil- 
hehn's  cabinet;  Emil  Vandervelde  signing  the 
peace  treaty  of  Versailles ;  and  the  old  Russian 
Plekhanov  enthusiastically  pro-war?  What 
was  the  meaning  of  this? 


84    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

Time  alone  will  give  us  a  complete  answer 
to  this  question,  but,  at  any  rate,  one  point  is 
certain.  The  Economic  Man  may  be  dead,  but 
nationalism  is  neither  dead  nor  exhausted:  it 
is,  on  the  contrary,  the  strongest  significant  so- 
cial impulse  to-day. 

Nationalism  has  divided  the  Socialist  Inter- 
national. It  has  created  the  patriotism  of 
Scheidemann,  of  Thomas,  of  Plekanov,  of  Ar- 
thur Henderson.  Civil  peace  is  become  the 
motto  of  the  day.  We  know  that  selfish  na- 
tionalism as  represented  by  Napoleon  was 
productive  of  a  greater  disaster.  The  Congress 
of  Vienna,  which  practically  closes  the  period 
of  the  French  Revolution,  with  its  absolute  dis- 
regard and  violation  of  national  principles, 
opened  the  way  for  the  diseases  and  abnormali- 
ties of  our  day,  and  was  one  of  the  greatest 
crimes  in  all  history. 

The  Russian  Socialist  and  historian,  Karie- 
yev,  represents  the  general  trend  of  our  history 
in  the  following  schematic  manner.  We  had  at 
the  beginning,  he  says,  river  culture.  Civili- 
zation was  centered  near  the  rivers;  the  Nile 
in  Egypt,  the  Tiger  and  Euphrates  in  Meso- 
potamia. That  is  the  childhood  of  civilization. 
Afterwards  came  sea  culture.     The  Phoeni- 


The  Morass  of  War  85 

cians  opened  the  way  through  Gibraltar,  and 
culture  began  to  be  concentrated  around  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean  and  the  Black  and 
North  Seas.  To-day  we  are  in  the  oceanic 
period.  Now  if  this  geographical  conception 
be  true  it  should  be  correlated  with  psychologi- 
cal elements  of  a  decisive  character.  When 
Napoleon  came  to  an  agreement  with  Alex- 
ander the  First,  at  Tilsit,  concerning  Prussia, 
the  latter  was  almost  reduced  to  an  insignifi- 
cant point  on  the  map  of  Europe,  and  was  dis- 
armed. That  was  an  international  mistake.  It 
was  the  birth  of  the  real  militaristic  system 
of  our  day,  of  universal  compulsory  conscrip- 
tion, springing  out  of  the  French  Revolution, 
and  contributing  to  the  creation  of  a  Prussia 
of  Bismarck  and  William  II. 

That  experiment  with  Prussia  could  not  be 
repeated  on  a  larger  scale  without  disastrous 
results.  Being  in  the  oceanic  state  of  culture, 
geographically  and  in  the  mechanical  state  of 
world  civilization  spiritually,  we  could  not  es- 
cape a  collapse,  since  the  Congress  of  Vienna, 
in  creating  a  new  map  of  Europe,  had  enslaved 
many  of  Europe's  nations. 

The  national  movement  of  Young  Deutsch- 
land,  and  then  the  movement  for  national  unity 


86    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

of  Germany,  led  by  Bismarck,  was  practically 
the  first  big  national  wave  which  broke  over 
Europe.    International  policies,  after  the  Con- 
gress of  Vienna,  and  later  the  Versailles  peace 
of  1870,  seemed  to  be  policies  for  disregarding 
national  aspirations  and  necessities.     It  seems 
to  me  that  this  war  was  the  ninth  wave,  the  last 
blow  of  that  spirit.    This  point  became  especi- 
ally clear  to  me  when,  early  in   September, 
1918,  I  happened  to  attend  a  session  of  the 
Austrian  Reichsrat.     I  shall  never  forget  the 
speeches  of  the  Czecho- Slovak  leader,  Stanyek, 
the  Polish  Social  Democrat,  Dashinsky,  and  of 
those  leaders  of  the  Jugo- Slavs,  the  Ukrain- 
ians, the  Roumanians  and  the  Italians.    Dash- 
insky's  speech  was  a  strange  combination  of 
terrible  despair  and  undying  hope.     The  bit- 
terness and  suffering  of  the  Poles,  oppressed 
by  Russia,  Germany,  and  Austria,  were  ex- 
pressed with  such  fervor,  and  his  heroic  faith  in 
Allied  democracy  was  expressed  with  such  con- 
viction,   that   the    Minister-President,    Baron 
Husarek,  could  not  find  adequate  words  to  re- 
ply.    He  gave  us  the  impression  of  being  a 
big  confused  child  who  was  trying  to  make  his 
voice  heard  in  a  large  hall  among  many  people. 
*'We  do  not  want  anything  but  national  free- 


The  Morass  of  War  87 

dom,"  said  Stanyek.  "Stupid  men!  They 
think  that  we  are  traitors  to  our  Fatherland 
and  official  spies  of  the  Allied  countries.  We 
are  only  in  communication  with  those  who  stand 
for  freedom  through  the  wireless  telegraphy  of 
our  brains." 

"The  world  importance  of  empires  composed 
of  different  nations  is  past,"  he  said  to  me 
later.  But  he  did  not  know — nor  was  he  alone 
in  his  faith  and  his  ignorance — that  Lloyd 
George  thought  differently  about  Ireland, 
Egypt  and  India;  that  Balfour  and  Clemen- 
ceau  are  either  blind  men  dying  with  their 
times,  or  else  psychological  geniuses  of  won- 
derful perspicacity  who  realize  that  national- 
ism is  the  last  chord  that  can  be  elicited  from 
the  broken  social  violin  of  all  Europe,  and  who 
choose  to  die  with  that  final  sound  in  their  ears. 

The  most  difficult  question  of  to-day  is  how 
to  find  again  and  how  to  bring  into  being  once 
more  the  real  spirit  of  democracy,  and  how  to 
reconcile  that  spirit  with  the  desperate  reaction 
of  nationalism.  At  a  certain  moment  nation- 
alism passes  its  climax  of  community  solidarity 
and  enters  a  stage  of  chauvinism.  The  Poles 
have  proved  this.  That  stage  means  the  ego- 
tism of  a  community  asserting  itself,  which  is 


88    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

equivalent  to  personal  or  family  egotism  on  an 
enormous  scale.  We  are  yet  very  far  from  the 
end  of  nationalism,  when  it  will  remain  for  the 
world's  conscience  and  the  world's  moral  spirit 
to  bring  into  play  the  cooperation  which  will 
solidarize  humanity.  Even  the  extreme  revo- 
lutionary movement  which  had  as  its  banner 
the  maximalist  economic  conception,  could  not 
get  rid  of  the  national  element ;  nay,  the  latter 
became  one  of  its  main  supports.  Hungarian 
communism  came  into  being  under  the  banner 
of  national  salvation,  although  it  was  called  a 
step  further  towards  social  revolution.  It  was 
not  in  vain  that  Count  Karolyi,  the  bourgeois 
president  of  Hungary,  was  one  of  its  promot- 
ers, and  the  Russian  Communist  revolution  be- 
came solid  and  strong  only  when  the  spirit  of 
national  defense,  although  expressed  in  terms 
of  social  revolution,  arose  throughout  the 
country. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  in  1812  Na- 
poleon was  defeated,  not  by  the  regular  Rus- 
sian armies  of  General  Kutuzov,  but  by  groups 
of  illiterate  village  peasants  without  any  mili- 
tary leadership,  who  were  still  serfs  and  slaves. 
The  national  impulse  was  instrumental  in  Na- 
poleon's defeat,  and  that  same  national  impulse 


The  Morass  of  War  89 

is  now  one  of  the  strongest  factors  in  the  unity 
and  sohdarity  of  Central  Russia.  The  bulk 
of  the  Russian  peasantry  is  suffering  more 
under  the  Soviets,  because  of  the  blockade, 
than  they  suffered  under  Kerensky,  but  they 
feel  they  have  their  own  destiny  in  their  own 
hands,  and  they  are  strong  and  united. 

It  is  difficult  to  foresee  what  will  be  the  way 
for  a  reconciliation  of  these  two  elements,  na- 
tional freedom  and  international  democratic 
cooperation.  This  war,  like  all  the  wars  of  the 
past,  and  those  of  the  future  as  well,  has  only 
played  upon  the  most  sensitive  instincts  of  hu- 
manity, and  has  brought  about  nothing  more 
than  a  rearrangement  of  warring  nations,  with 
the  natural  consequences  of  chauvinism,  imper- 
ialism, and  brute  force.  Thus  far  humanity, 
having  no  national  leaders,  and  having  no  hope 
in  the  new  order  which  has  been  organized  by 
old  men,  on  old  bases,  with  old  materials  and 
old  tools — humanity  is  thus  far  trying  in  vain 
to  find  its  way  out.  Yet  in  one  nation,  because 
of  special  conditions,  there  issued  spontan- 
eously a  desperate  effort  to  get  rid,  first  of  her 
own  rulers,  and  second  of  those  representa- 
tives of  her  family  who  were  merchandising 
for  their  own  selfish  purposes.     The  convul- 


90    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

sive  effort  of  humanity  to  clear  the  path  before 
it  is  best  illustrated  by  the  Russian  revolution. 
Unfortunately  the  rest  of  the  world  remains 
submerged  by  the  darkmen  of  old  biases  and  as 
a  result  the  Russian  revolution  degenerated 
in  an  almost  incurable  physical  and  moral 
tragedy. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    KECOVERY    OF    REVOLUTION 

The  Russian  Revolution,  at  the  moment  I 
write,  dates  back  three  years.  Yet  few  ob- 
servers in  Western  Europe  fully  sense  the 
significance  of  that  catastrophe.  The  revolu- 
tion is  still  looked  upon  as  a  convulsive  reaction 
against  that  monstrous  survival  of  a  darker 
age — the  Tsardom.  Historically,  a  number 
of  facts  support  this  narrow,  local  interpreta- 
tion of  the  revolution.  Beyond  all  doubt  the 
Tsardom  was  an  abnormal  political  institution. 
It  continued  to  exercise  unabated  authority  in 
a  period  when  even  Persia  had  some  kind  of  a 
parliament,  and  when  the  despotism  of  the 
Sultan  of  Turkey  was  being  momentarily 
threatened  by  insurgent  forces.  The  colossal 
integrity  of  Tsardom  in  the  twentieth  century 
Vas  amazing.  After  the  short  period  of  mock 
constitutionalism  which  followed  the  Russo- 
Japanese  War  and  the  Russian  Revolution  of 

91 


92    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

1905,  Tsardom  resumed  its  obsolescent  claims 
of  autocracy  with  vigorous  impudence.  Nicho- 
las II,  on  succeeding  Alexander  III  to  the 
throne  in  1896,  had  reminded  certain  represen- 
tatives of  the  old  Russian  zemstvos  and  village 
districts  (volosty)  that  the  aspirations  of  lib- 
eral Russian  groups  for  a  constitutional  mon- 
archy were  merely  "unrealizable  dreams."  In 
1907  the  Russian  Duma  duly  confirmed  that 
observation  by  proclaiming  Nicholas  officially 
"Tsar  and  Autocrat  of  All  the  Russias."  The 
hypocrisy  of  constitutional  reform  needed  no 
further  confirmation.  The  re-elevation  of  the 
Tsar  by  the  Duma  was  the  equivalent  of  the 
abolition  of  the  Duma  by  the  Tsar. 

For  all  this  the  second  Russian  Revolution 
did  not  share  the  peculiarly  national  character- 
istics of  the  first.  I  remember  the  attempted 
overthrow  in  1905.  It  was  a  political  revolt 
engineered  under  the  auspices  of  the  Russian 
intellectuals,  by  purely  Russian  methods,  with- 
out aid  or  influence  from  the  outside.  For 
many  reasons  this  first  revolution  failed,  and 
when  the  last  spark  of  it  had  been  extinguished 
by  exile  and  imprisonment  the  hope  of  revolu- 
tion all  but  disappeared  among  the  radicals  and 
Socialists  of  Europe.    The  idea  of  revolution 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution  93 

remained  not  so  much  a  living  belief  as  a  dead 
postulate  of  the  class  struggle.  Russia,  ac- 
cording to  the  Marxians,  was  the  last  country 
in  which  the  revolution  could  occur;  for  here 
capitalism  had  not  yet  completely  converted 
society  to  the  Great  Industry,  and,  according 
to  the  determinist  doctrine,  a  revolution  which 
did  not  evolve  out  of  the  economic  situation 
had  no  elements  of  success. 

The  outburst  of  the  revolutionary  spirit  in 
Russia  in  1917  left  the  theoreticians  gasping. 
The  Berne  International  Socialist  Bureau,  in 
its  first  manifesto  after  the  March  revolution  of 
1917,  begins  with  a  phrase  which  reveals  how 
strikingly  impressed  its  authors  were.  "The 
revolution,"  cries  the  manifesto,  "still  lives!" 
Such  joy  was  like  that  which  used  to  greet  the 
birth  of  a  royal  child  after  a  marriage  that  had 
long  been  sterile.  Theoretical  doubts  and  di- 
lemmas had  been  annulled  by  the  event.  A 
new  revolution  had  been  born:  the  spirit  of  '89 
and  '48  still  lived! 

Now,  the  downfall  of  the  Tsar  was  a  matter 
of  more  than  purely  Russian  concern,  and  it 
excited  worldwide  interest.  But  in  spite  of  the 
Russian  spirit  of  some  of  its  especial  features 
the  revolution  itself  was  a  result  of  interna- 


94    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

tional  political  conditions  wliich,  in  a  sense, 
merely  focussed  themselves  in  Russia.  The 
mainspring  of  the  Russian  Revolution  of  1917, 
in  other  words,  was  not  national  but  interna- 
tional. It  was  a  reaction  against  the  present- 
day  European  spirit  rather  than  against  the 
Tsardom.  In  short,  it  had  a  universal  political 
significance,  and  because  of  that  fact  it  can- 
not be  considered  as  an  isolated  event  that  took 
place  in  a  peculiarly  remote  and  backward 
country.  The  oppression  of  Tsardom  was  an 
accidental  cause  of  the  revolution;  the  decay 
of  European  thought,  the  repression  of  vital 
forces  and  individuahties,  the  burden  of  a 
senseless  war,  were  the  real,  the  ultimate,  and 
the  efficient  causes  of  the  Russian  Revolution. 
Let  us  pause  here  for  a  moment  to  examine  the 
particular  conditions  upon  which  these  remoter 
causes  operated. 

One  must  remember,  first  of  all,  that  Russia 
was  closely  linked — because  of  the  war — with 
the  political  aspirations  of  Western  Europe. 
The  Russian  allies,  England  and  France,  and 
especially  the  former,  were  hugely  disap- 
pointed in  Russian  Tsardom.  They  were  op- 
posed to  it,  not  because  it  was  an  iniquitous 
political  system,  but  because  it  had  proved,  as 


Tlie  Recovery  of  Revolution  95 

a  military  organization,  to  be  lamentably  weak. 
The  decade  that  had  elapsed  between  the 
Russo-Japanese  War  and  the  Great  War  had 
contributed  nothing  to  the  efficiency  of  Tsar- 
dom  as  a  war-machine.  War,  indeed,  is  a 
typically  autocratic  enterprise,  but  the  last  war 
proved  that  the  spirit  of  strenuous  popular 
combat  needed  the  illusions  of  democratic 
forms  and  conventions,  with  convincing  politi- 
cal slogans,  in  order  to  awaken  the  latent 
energies  of  the  industrial  and  military  popula- 
tion. Therein  lay  the  weakness  of  the  Russian 
autocracy.  They  feared  greatly  that  popular 
slogans  might  come  to  have  some  real  meaning 
to  the  Russian  people.  The  autocracy,  on  one 
hand,  was  too  reserved,  and  on  the  other  hand 
too  rigorously  committed  to  its  forms,  to  en- 
force its  autocratic  power  to  the  full.  The 
very  lock  of  formal  democracy  in  Russia  weak- 
ened the  possibility  of  creating  that  real  and 
efficient  autocracy  under  which  the  "liberal" 
countries  of  Western  Europe  operated.  The 
short-sighted  selfishness  of  the  Russian  autoc- 
racy caused  great  concern  in  the  British  For- 
eign Office;  for  Russia  was  an  apparently 
inexhaustible  source  of  "cannon-fodder"  whose 
ten  million  men  under  arms  needed  only  ade- 


96    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

quate  equipment  and  generalship  to  roll  a  tidal 
wave  of  victory  over  the  Central  Empires. 
England  tried  accordingly,  among  the  moder- 
ate liberals  in  Russian  society,  to  unmask  the 
selfish  politics  of  the  Tsar.  Sir  George 
Buchanan,  the  British  Ambassador  in  Petro- 
grad,  had  much  to  do  with  this  campaign,  and 
through  such  leaders  as  Milyukov  he  made  a 
deep  breach  in  the  ranks  of  the  ruling  classes 
by  denouncing  either  the  pro-Germanism  of 
the  Court  or  the  perverser  crimes  of  politics 
accomplished  with  the  influence  and  under  the 
cooperation  of  the  notorious  "Saint"  Rasputin. 
Thus  the  official  forces  of  Russian  nationalism 
were  weakened.  It  needed  only  a  general 
European  collapse,  about  which  the  revolution- 
ary Russian  leaders,  in  all  corners  of  Europe, 
were  well  informed  to  open  the  way  for  a 
popular  movement  of  far-reaching  import- 
ance. 

A  building  may  appear  big  and  strong  and 
imposing,  but  once  the  first  stone  is  removed 
from  its  foundation  its  ultimate  destruction  is 
only  a  matter  of  time.  Without  another  act 
from  the  outside  the  entire  edifice  will  totter 
and  fall.  That  was  the  case  with  Russian 
Tsardom.     England,  no  doubt,  failed  to  see 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution  97 

that  her  removal  of  a  single  stone  would  result 
in  the  complete  dilapidation  of  the  structure 
of  Russian  society,  but  that  is  precisely  what 
happened.  Her  support  of  Denikin  and  Kol- 
chak  may  be  characterized  as  attempts  to  re- 
trieve that  which  from  the  reactionary  political 
point  of  view  of  the  Foreign  Office  must  have 
seemed  a  gigantic  error  in  gauging  social 
stresses  and  strains. 

The  ground  for  the  revolution  had  been 
cleared,  but  it  was  still  a  question  as  to  what 
group  should  prepare  the  plans  for  a  new 
structure  of  society.  The  true  revolutionary 
elements  did  not  hold  the  field  alone,  nor  were 
they  the  only  group  that  sought  to  profit  by 
the  collapse  of  Tsardom.  There  were  those 
who  wished  to  keep  the  essentials  of  the  old 
order  by  bolstering  it  up  with  constitutional 
sanctions  and  supports.  For  a  time  Russian 
parliamentarianism  came  to  the  front,  repre- 
sented by  the  Cadets,  and  along  with  these  were 
the  Russian  patriots,  represented  by  the  ex- 
treme right.  They  could  not,  however,  retain 
power  for  any  length  of  time — and  for  a  simple 
reason.  They  had  but  two  watchwords :  "Na- 
tional Defense,"  and  "Unity  with  Civilized 
Europe."    Neither  of  these  was  calculated  to 


98    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

do  anything  except  increase  popular  distrust. 
What  was  really  the  background  of  national 
consciousness  and  national  defense?     It  was 
the  old  formula  that  had  been  adopted  by  the 
Tsar,  developed  by  the  Tsar,  and  abused  by 
the  Tsar.    Great  as  was  the  peril  of  the  Ger- 
man invasion,  it  was  a  weakness  to  fight  it  with 
a  slogan  extracted  from  the  dictionary  of  the 
ancient  regime.    Unity  with  Europe  was  just 
as  incompatible  with  a  revolutionary  psychol- 
ogy.    What  did  it  really  mean?     I  recall  a 
novel,  entitled  "L'Or,"  by  the  French  writer, 
Paul  Victor.    In  that  book  is  an  excellent  de- 
scription of  the  Tsar's  visit  to  Paris  in  1897. 
The  enthusiastic  welcome  given  this  "splendid 
representative  of  a  splendid  people"  could  not 
be  forgotten  by  Russia,  the  suppressed.     A 
change  of  scene  and  a  lengthening  of  years 
brought  out  the  irony  of  this  tribute.     The 
triumphant  visits   of  President  Loubet   and 
President  Poincare  to  Petrograd  cast  a  light 
upon  the  values  and  necessities  of  European 
imity.      Strikes   were   taking   place   in   July, 
1914,  at  Petrograd  on  the  occasion  of  Poin- 
care's  visit.    The  political  situation  was  acute. 
Yet  the  censorship  suspended  communications 
about  the  strikes  and  the  newspapers  dealt  only 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution  99 

with  the  wonderful  style  of  the  speeches  made 
by  the  French  president,  upon  drinking  to  the 
health  of  the  Tsar.  A  few  weeks  later  the  war 
broke  out.  For  diplomats,  for  experts  in  in- 
ternational affairs,  the  war  meant  a  welding  of 
the  Franco-Russian  alliance,  conceived  and 
organized  by  Tsar  Alexander  III.  That  was 
what  "European  unity"  meant,  for  example, 
to  Sazonov.  For  the  masses  who  had  tasted 
the  first  sip  of  freedom  European  unity  meant 
the  continuance  of  a  regime  that  would  be 
friendly  to  the  Tsar  and  his  rule.  Were  Rus- 
sia thus  united  to  Europe,  the  Russian  intel- 
lectuals saw,  the  active  sympathy  of  other 
European  groups  could  no  longer  be  counted 
upon  in  the  movement  for  liberation. 

Now,  the  spirit  of  international  radicalism 
has  always  been  the  spirit  of  the  Russian  Revo- 
lution :  it  has  been  so  from  the  very  beginning. 
The  Russian  revolutionist  was  afraid  of  per- 
petuating unity  in  war  because  he  wished  to 
preserve  unity  in  the  battle  for  freedom.  This 
spirit  was  not  an  invention  of  Lenin  and 
Trotzky.  Three  days  after  the  overthrow  of 
the  Tsar,  on  March  16,  1917,  the  first  Russian 
Petrograd  Soviet  adopted  a  resolution  in  favor 
of  a  democratic  peace  which  should  be  sup- 


100    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

ported  and  enforced,  not  by  the  governments 
of  Europe,  but  by  the  working  men.  That 
most  honest  Sociahst  and  patriot,  Kerensky,  al- 
ways a  consistent  anti-Bolshevist,  the  soul  of 
the  first  period  of  the  Russian  Revolution, 
never  made  a  speech  of  any  kind  without  men- 
tioning the  European  proletariat  masses — 
never  the  European  diplomats.  The  slightest 
betrayal  of  sympathy  toward  the  governments 
of  Europe  was  enough  to  precipitate  a  new 
revolution.  That  is  why  the  conservative  par- 
ties so  quickly  were  thrust  into  the  background. 
Milyukov,  as  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  in  a 
fatal  note  dated  March  4,  1917,  informed  the 
Allies  that  Russia  remained  almost  uncondi- 
tionally with  them.  That  note  brought  about 
the  first  crisis  of  the  Provisional  Government. 
As  a  result  seven  Socialists  were  given  port- 
folios. The  unpopularity  of  war  and  reaction 
was  evident. 

Thus  we  see  that  from  the  very  beginning 
the  Russian  Revolution  was  not  an  independ- 
ent process  of  a  purely  Russian  character.  It 
was  rather  a  reaction  to  international  ambi- 
tions. It  was  not  Lenin  or  Trotzky  who  made 
the  Russian  problem  a  factor  in  international 
calculations.     They  simply  made  it  more  evi- 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution  101 

dent,  more  acute,  more  consistent,  more  dif- 
ficult to  escape. 

I  have  noted  that  the  element  which  was 
primarily  instrumental  in  the  process  of  the 
revolution  was  the  element  of  distrust.  It  was 
a  distrust  both  of  Europe  and  of  those  Russian 
political  groups  that  claimed  to  represent  Eu- 
ropean democracy.  The  character  of  the  revo- 
lution became  more  clear-cut  and  positive  when 
the  exiled  revolutionists  of  the  old  regime 
poured  back  into  the  country.  It  is  a  political 
superstition  to  believe  that  men  like  Chernov, 
Lenin,  and  Trotzky  were  conscious,  and  even 
official,  pro-Germans  as  has  been  so  frequently 
alleged.  Potentially,  a  large  part  of  the  Rus- 
sian population  was  disaffected ;  that  is  to  say, 
it  leaned  toward  anti-war,  anti-European,  and 
anti-imperialist  doctrines.  The  Bolshevik  lead- 
ers did  not  create  this  disaffection.    It  already 

existed,  and  from  the  beginning  it  undermined 
the  authority  of  such  an  Anglophile  as  Milyu- 
kov.  Kerensky  himself,  with  his  desperate 
patriotism  and  his  '93  nationalism,  was  no  man 
to  combat  this  deep-seated  antipathy  to  Europe 
and  the  War.  The  extremist  chiefs,  on  the 
other  hand,  brought  back  with  them  an  old 
revolutionary  record  and  a  profound  knowl- 


102    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

edge  of  Europe.  They  expressed  in  clear 
words  the  living  spirit  of  the  people.  Their 
bitterness  was  a  result  of  their  experiences:  it 
was  no  moody  psychological  reaction.  Inspired 
by  these  leaders  the  popular  confidence  in  the 
revolution  burned  anew. 

I  do  not  intend  to  go  exhaustively  into  the 
diplomatic  blunders  and  international  mistakes 
committed  in  the  capitals  of  Europe  in  deal- 
ing with  the  Russian  Revolution,  since  it  would 
be  idle  to  give  more  instances  of  the  inadequacy 
of  the  old  diplomats  of  the  old  school,  dealing 
with  the  same  old  words,  to  new  people  about 
new  events.  The  Russian  Revolution  was 
something  quite  new,  and  the  accredited  rep- 
resentatives of  the  associated  powers  tried  to 
convince  the  representatives  of  the  new  Russia 
with  the  same  words  and  the  same  smiles  which 
they  had  addressed  some  few  weeks  before  to 
the  high  personalities  at  Tsarskoye  Selo.  Per- 
haps, from  the  standpoint  of  the  traditions  of 
"civilized"  diplomacy,  it  is  proper  to  turn  a 
smiling  face  to  the  Tsarina  returning  from  an 
appointment  with  the  ignorant  monk  Ras- 
putin, and  to  Kerensky  after  he  had  a  confer- 
ence with  the  Council  of  Workmen  and 
Soldiers ;  but  from  the  standpoint  of  a  revolu- 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         103 

tion  the  act  would  be  merely  a  polite  conde- 
scension. 

What  is  more  interesting  is  to  note  the 
European  elements  in  the  Russian  Revolution. 
I  must  first  of  all  explain  that  Russian  Tsar- 
dom,  although  an  Asiatic  survival,  employed 
almost  all  the  European  political  tools  and 
slogans.  Therefore  the  anti-national,  anti- 
social, and  almost  personal  policy  of  the  Tsars 
was  always  covered  by  the  familiar  catchwords, 
"community"  and  "patriotism."  As  I  have 
pointed  out  before,  patriotism  was  one  of  the 
mainsprings  in  the  general  policy  of  Western 
Europe.  But  in  Russia  the  word  acquired  an 
entirely  different  meaning.  The  benevolent 
absolutists  of  the  eighteenth  century  did  not 
pretend,  at  least  officially,  to  be  patriots.  They 
were  only  the  more  educated,  absolutist, 
"fathers"  of  their  "children,"  the  people: 
Their  loyalty  clung  not  to  their  country  but  to 
their  class.  The  French  Revolution  accord- 
ingly was  born  and  conducted  under  the  tri- 
color flag  of  French  patriotism,  as  opposed  to 
the  white  flag  of  the  Bourbons  and  nobles. 
French  soldiers  killed  army  officers  because  the 
latter  were  traitors  to  their  countrv,  anti- 
patriots.     A  hundred   and  twenty  years   of 


104    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

European  life,  however,  had  changed  the  old 
ideas.  Patriotism  as  a  motive  for  revolution 
disappeared  because  it  was  misused  by  Napo- 
leon and  Bismarck,  by  Treitschke  and  by  the 
Tsars.  The  Russian  word  patriotism  had  al- 
ways been  associated  with  the  Tsar's  party, 
with  pogrom  unions,  and  with  the  reactionary 
clergy.  The  downfall  of  the  Tsar  was  the 
downfall  of  official  patriotism.  Therefore  the 
partisans  of  national  defense,  from  the  left  to 
the  right,  were  bound  to  be  misunderstood  by 
the  people.  The  former  had  their  own  patriotic 
ideas  of  traditional  European  liberalism, 
whereas  the  people  could  not  get  rid  of  the 
strange  association  of  patriotism  with  selfish 
and  greedy  conservatism. 

Here  it  is  worth  while  to  make  one  point 
clear.  Kerensky  was  not  guilty  of  merely  a 
tactical  blunder.  He  was  really  persuaded 
that  a  revolutionary  nationalism,  somewhat 
akin  to  the  revolutionary  nationalism  of  France 
in  1793-1796,  would  be  the  most  valuable  aid 
in  the  development  of  Russian  freedom.  In 
this  respect  he  trusted  more  to  his  tempera- 
ment and  idealistic  aspirations  than  to  an  in- 
sight into  the  real  state  of  facts  and  the  mind 
of  the  people.     He  did  not  notice  or  realize 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         105 

that  in  order  to  carry  out  his  principles  he  had 
to  deal,  not  with  a  nation  which  was  self-con- 
scious and  would  follow  a  national  hero,  but 
with  a  nervous,  tired  mass  whose  enthusiasm 
was  a  result  of  the  unexpected  and  glorious 
new  freedom.  The  healthy  national  instincts 
of  the  mass  were  not  affected  by  Kerensky  be- 
cause they  had  been  weakened  by  the  long  te- 
dium of  warfare. 

During  the  Kerensky  period  of  the  revolu- 
tion we  passed  through  a  time  when  the  people 
were  simply  a  plain  crowd,  guided  or  led  by  an 
idealist  whose  ideas  were  strange  to  the  crowd 
itself.  Anyone  with  a  cahn  mind,  whether  he 
was  an  opponent  or  a  partisan  of  Kerensky, 
could  not  help  seeing  that  a  reaction,  and  a 
disastrous  reaction,  was  inevitable.  As  long  as 
Napoleon  guided  his  armies  under  the  banner 
of  liberty  and  patriotism,  which  was  the  real 
standard  of  the  French  Revolution,  he  could 
succeed;  but  as  soon  as  these  expressions  be- 
came merely  political,  as  soon  as  the  army 
failed  to  recognize  them  as  real  issues.  Na- 
poleon was  morally  defeated.  Kerensky  was 
much  weaker  and  less  conspicuous  than  the 
great  French  soldier  and  Emperor;  and  Keren- 
sky was  neither  a  dictator,  nor  a  man  of  power. 


106    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

He  is  perhaps  the  best  illustration  bf  the  pure 
Russian  type  of  activity  and  idealism.  Keren- 
sky  believed.  His  faith  was  naive,  almost 
religious.  He  believed  that  a  people  cannot 
misunderstand  their  own  great  needs,  that  out 
of  the  depths  of  the  masses  arises  always  the 
whole  spirit  of  truth  and  justice.  He  feared 
from  the  very  beginning  that  the  masses  might 
be  corrupted,  and  all  his  policy  was  directed 
toward  moral  education,  and  laissez  faire  laissez 
passer.  As  early  as  April,  1917,  in  the  first 
month  of  the  revolution,  addressing  the  first 
Congress  of  Russian  peasants,  he  said,  in  the 
most  emphatic  and  forceful  way:  "You,  com- 
rades, must  now  show  whether  you  are  a  people 
of  strength  and  freedom,  or  only  a  mass  of 
revolting  slaves."  He  believed  that  he  could 
feel  the  pulse  and  heart  of  the  people,  and  that 
they  would  never  betray  their  own  future.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  it  would  be  sufficient  if  the 
people  were  but  to  get  rid  of  their  oppressor, 
and  that  any  constraint  after  this  would  be  un- 
necessary. He  was  a  real  idealist,  of  almost 
Christian  resignation,  strangely  combined  with 
a  tendency  to  assume  a  moral  dictatorship.  I 
remember  a  tragic  moment  at  the  time  of  the 
Moscow  National  Congress  in  August,  1917, 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         107 

when,  in  his  opening  speech,  after  describing 
the  general  desperate  conditions  both  inter- 
nally and  at  the  front,  he  went  on  to  say  that 
the  Provisional  Government  had  found  it 
necessary  to  reestablish  capital  punishment  at 
the  front.  Enthusiastic  applause  from  the 
Right  greeted  the  statement.  Stamping  his 
foot,  and  with  threatening,  clenched  fist  he 
interrupted  the  applause  with  a  loud,  almost 
hysterical  cry  of  "Silence !  Silence !  You  have 
no  right  to  applaud  at  a  moment  when  we  are 
dealing  with  life  and  death,  the  right  of  which 
does  not  belong  to  us.  It  is  terrible  that  at  a 
time  of  such  stress  and  despair  we  are  com- 
pelled to  use  such  violence.  That  is  our  shame, 
but  never  our  pride." 

Had  Kerensky  been  free  from  the  pernicious 
reactionary  influences  which  were  brought  to 
bear  upon  him,  he  would  never  have  under- 
taken any  act  in  violation  of  the  idealistic  spirit 
of  the  revolution.  It  is  impossible,  it  would 
seem,  to  live  and  to  carry  out  humane  prin- 
ciples in  a  world  debauched  by  violence.  Vio- 
lent methods  are  pure  European  methods ;  they 
imply  a  morbid  idea  of  justice,  a  justice  real- 
ized by  discipline  or  constraint.  They  are  re- 
pugnant to  the  Russian  idealist.     Alexander 


108    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

Hertzen  observed  with  saddened  conviction  in 
one  of  his  works :  "Pereat  mundus  -fiat  justitia? 
What  a  stupid  idea !  I  do  not  want  any  justice 
which  is  bought  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  world. 
What  is  the  use  of  any  justice  which  exists  all 
alone,  when  the  world  is  perishing?  I  do  not 
want  any  justice,  any  abstract  justice,  which 
flourishes  abstractly  on  the  gravestones  of 
humanity."  And  that  spirit  expressed  the 
beauty,  the  excellence,  and  the  weakness  of 
Kerensky. 

Two  types  of  political  thought  and  principle 
were  brought  into  Russia  from  abroad.  The 
first,  the  liberalism  of  the  European,  and  es- 
pecially the  English  mind,  as  represented  by 
Milyukov  and  his  party ;  and  the  second,  the  tra- 
ditional orthodox  Socialism,  mostly  influenced 
by  the  German  school.  The  old  Russian  lib- 
erals from  the  first  day  of  the  revolution 
showed  that  they  were  a  mentally  backward 
group.  They  had  appeared  to  be  advanced 
only  so  long  as  such  a  mediaeval  survival  as 
Tsardom  existed ;  but  when  they  had  to  face  a 
new  twentieth-century  problem  they  had 
only  an  eighteenth-century  solution  to  oflFer. 
ISTursed  on  European  literature,  in  European 
schools  of  political  thought,  and  fed  with  ideas 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         109 

of  English  liberalism — which  seemed  to  them 
to  be  the  ultima  ratio  of  a  people's  life — they 
represented  from  the  very  first,  and  still  repre- 
sent, the  European  ideals  of  force,  of  domina- 
tion by  the  state,  of  the  imposed  mechanical 
discipline  of  predominant  government.  They 
suffered  from  an  idee  pee  from  the  first  day  of 
the  revolution;  the  idea  embodied  in  the  words 
Power,  Discipline.  They  did  not  judge  Ke- 
rensky's  plans  or  revolutionary  ideals  from  the 
standpoint  of  new  values,  nor  did  they  seek 
new  methods  in  order  to  carry  them  out.  They 
had  their  old  party  prescriptions  ready  to  hand. 
A  parliamentary  state  must  guide  people  in  a 
certain  direction  by  the  old  prescribed  means. 
The  state  machine  must  avail  itself  of  the  old 
resources  of  constraint  and  carry  out  a  fixed 
program  of  "law  and  order." 

The  spirit  embodied  in  Kerensky  was,  I  say,' 
opposed  to  these  European  policies.  The  fu- 
ture historian  may,  perhaps,  be  amazed  to  find 
in  the  records  and  documents  concerning  the 
first  days  of  the  Russian  Revolution  the  fol- 
lowing fact,  significant  of  that  first  outburst 
of  generous  impulse.  When  Zukomlinoff ,  the 
erstwhile  Minister  of  War,  was  arrested  by  the 
guard  and  brought  to  the  palace  of  Taurida, 


IIQ   The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

he  narrowly  escaped  being  lynched  by  the  mass 
of  soldiers  and  workmen  in  the  Catherine  Hall 
of  the  palace,  for  he  was  known  as  a  traitor 
and  a  selfish  politician  who  had  played  a  sin- 
ister part  in  the  military  defeat  of  Russia. 
When  the  crowd  recognized  him  their  anger 
against  him  rose  to  fury.  As  always,  unex- 
pectedly, the  indefatigable  Kerensky  emerged 
from  the  throng.  "We  have  been  fighting  all 
our  lives  for  the  abolition  of  violence!"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Stop!  No  blood!"  And  the  mob 
stopped.  Some  of  the  men  protested.  They 
saw  the  crosses  of  distinction  on  the  breast  of 
the^jlM  Tsarist  and  the  epaulets  of  a  general  on 
his  s3ioulders,  and  wanted  to  pull  them  off. 
It  was  a  dramatic  moment,  and  the  cry  to 
lynch  him  broke  out.  Kerensky's  strong  voice 
rang  out  again.  "He  will  do  it  himself.  You 
have  no  right  to  kill.  He  is  an  unarmed 
enemy,  and  he  is  in  our  hands."  He  took  a 
penknife  out  of  his  pocket  and  handed  it  to 
the  general,  who  slowly  and  with  trembling 
hands,  cut  off  all  the  decorations  that  had  been 
given  him  by  the  Tsar.  Gratified,  the  crowd 
cheered.  Its  human  heart  had  remained  whole 
and  clean. 

In  the  meantime  a  session  of  the  Petrograd 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         111 

Council  of  Workmen  and  Soldiers  was  taking 
place  in  one  of  the  adjoining  rooms,  and  a  radi- 
cal leader  of  the  first  revolutionary  days, 
afterwards  a  Bolshevik,  Styeklov,  was  counsel- 
ling from  the  platform  of  the  Soviet,  the  exe- 
cution of  the  Tsar — who  was  being  brought  to 
Petrograd  under  guard.  Again  he  rose  heroic- 
ally to  the  situation  and  lifted  high  the  banner 
of  humanity.  "No  blood!"  he  pleaded  ear- 
nestly. "We  are  the  victors  to-day  and  we 
must  show  to  those  we  have  conquered  by  the 
powerful  will  of  a  liberated  people,  that  we 
are  more  human  than  they  were;  that  we  do 
not  need  any  revenge;  that  we  do  not  even 
want  to  fight  people  who  are  lost  as  a  force 
once  and  forever." 

Kerensky  carried  the  meeting  and  the  Tsar 
was  not  executed.  The  day  following,  it  was 
decreed,  by  the'  same  Kerensky,  the  first  Revo- 
lutionary JNIinister  of  Justice,  that  capital 
punishment  should  be  abolished. 

And  yet  these  methods  of  Kerensky  were 
sneezed  at  as  "phrases!  words!"  His  ideals 
and  tactics  came  to  be  known,  in  derogatory 
fashion,  as  "Kerenschina"  or  "Kerenskyisms." 

The  Cadet  party  was  ready  to  sacrifice  its 
political  reputation,  and  even  the  country  it- 


112    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

self,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  war  policy 
adopted  by  our  "civilized"  western  European 
Allies.  With  the  slogans  "patriotism"  and 
"national  defense"  they  endeavored  to  under- 
mine the  real  revolutionary  unity  which  existed 
in  Russia,  and  to  use  their  own  methods  in- 
stead. Both  in  their  ideals  and  in  their  be- 
havior the  liberal  Russian  bourgeoisie  were  the 
least  patriotic,  the  least  national,  and  the  most 
doctrinaire  section  of  the  Russian  people.  In 
their  blindness  and  pedantic  devotion  to  the 
AlHed  democracy  they  undermined,  whenever 
it  was  possible,  the  Provisional  Government, 
and  they  threw  up  every  obstacle  against  regu- 
uar  development  of  the  Russian  Revolution. 
In  the  last  days  of  June,  1917,  when  the  of- 
fensive, which  Kerensky  was  compelled  to 
undertake  by  the  Allies  and  by  the  Cadets, 
was  making  a  desperate  effort  at  the  front 
against  Germany,  all  the  Socialist  members  of 
the  government  had  left  Petrograd.  Keren- 
sky  was  on  the  western  front,  at  Minsk :  Scobe- 
liev,  the  Minister  of  Labor,  Lebediev,  the 
Minister  of  the  Navj^  and  I  myself  were  at 
the  northwestern  front,  at  Dvinsk;  the  Social 
Democrat  Tseretelli  and  Necrasov  were  in 
Kief,  in  communication  with  the  Ukrainian 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         113 

representatives.  It  was  a  moment  when  the 
national  aspirations  of  Ukrainia  had  grown, 
and  taking  into  consideration  the  military  sit- 
uation and  the  significance  of  Ukrainia  as  the 
next  rear  to  the  southwestern  front,  the  Pro- 
visional Government  had  come  to  an  im- 
mediate agreement  with  the  Ukrainians.  The 
members  of  the  Cadet  party  alone  remained  in 
Petrogi-ad.  They  had  to  assume  the  responsi- 
bility for  the  organic  work  of  the  state  at  that 
time.  Petrograd  was  in  a  disturbed  state. 
The  workers  were  dissatisfied  with  the  policy 
of  the  Cadet  members  of  the  government  dur- 
ing the  first  months  of  the  revolution.  At  the 
very  height  of  this  national  crisis  we  received  a 
secret  dispatch  from  Petrograd  that  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Cadet  party  had  resigned.  Their 
official  excuse  was  that  the  moment  was  too 
serious  and  complicated,  and  they  deemed  it 
their  duty  to  give  up  their  places  to  those  who 
wanted  them. 

The  Socialist  Minister  of  Agriculture,  Cher- 
nov, was  right  when  he  said,  "The  Cadets  did 
not  resign.  They  deserted."  The  men  who 
claimed  to  have  a  monopoly  on  patriotism  and 
noble  nationalism  found  it  best  to  leave  the 
governmental  machine  at  a  moment  when  tlieir 


114    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

services  were  most  needed.  They  chose  to  fol- 
low the  old  principle — let  the  world  perish  pro- 
vided an  abstract,  doctrinaire  justice  may- 
reign. 

This  move  practically  cleared  the  way,  for 
the  first  time,  for  the  rule  of  the  Soviets.  The 
Soviet  leaders  of  Petrograd  remained  in  their 
places  during  this  critical  period  and  tried  to 
coordinate  their  work  with  the  advices  re- 
ceived by  wire  from  the  different  members  of 
the  government  outside  Petrograd,  who  had 

not  deserted. 

Milyukov  and  Chingarov  were  the  real  rep- 
resentatives of  the  doctrine  of  pure  force  in 
statesmanship.  Without  force  they  could  not 
conceive  the  idea  of  community — it  was  the 
sine  qua  nan  of  political  existence.  The  weak- 
ness of  their  "strong-arm"  doctrine  came  to 
light  in  the  August  days  of  Korniloff's  rebel- 
lion. Immediately  after  the  receipt  of  the 
news  of  Korniloff's  pronunciamento,  the  Cadet 
members  of  the  government,  Yurenov,  Minis- 
ter of  Raih-oads,  Oldenburg,  Minister  of  Edu- 
cation, and  the  others  resigned;  their  official 
reason  being  "The  moment  is  too  serious,  and 
we  deem  it  our  duty  to  permit  Kerensky  to 
organize  a  government."    Again  the  Russian 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         115 

bourgeois  liberals  tried  to  escape  from  the  re- 
sponsibility for  maintaining  the  Russian  Revo- 
lution. 

It  is  interesting  to  compare  the  attitude  of 
the  Bolshevik  party  at  that  time.  Kerensky 
was  most  cordially  hated  by  all  of  them.  The 
Provisional  Government  was  to  them  an  odious 
organization.  Trotzky,  Kameneff  and  Luna- 
charsky  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  castigate 
Kerensky  at  every  turn.  They  resented  his 
intransigeant  attitude  towards  the  maximalist 
tendencies  of  the  Bolsheviki.  I  remember  one 
night  in  the  Winter  Palace,  when  Kerensky 
was  alone,  without  friends  or  advisers.  The 
Socialist  members  of  the  government  were 
coming  and  going  to  and  from  conferences  with 
their  Central  Committee.  The  deserting 
Cadets  had  altogether  disappeared  from  the 
scene.  Kerensky  went  and  returned  from  the 
palace  to  the  headquarters  of  the  General 
Staff  almost  every  few  minutes.  Suddenly 
the  shriek  of  a  siren  came  from  the  harbor. 
We  had  heard  about  an  hour  before  this  that 
the  Bolsheviki  cruiser  the  Aurora  from  Kron- 
stadt,  on  which  it  was  rumored  Lenin  was 
hiding,  was  on  its  way  to  Petrograd.  Evi- 
dently the  Aurora  had  arrived,  and  we  were 


116    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

now  faced  hy  the  possibility  that  the  govern- 
ment would  be  assailed  from  both  sides,  the 
reaction  of  the  Allies  and  the  Cadets  repre- 
sented by  Korniloif,  and  the  Bolsheviki  now 
arriving  on  the  Aurora.  I  was  called  down- 
stairs. Two  sailors  from  the  cruiser,  serious, 
grave,  stern,  and  yet  nervously  energetic,  asked 
to  see  Kerensky. 

"Perhaps  I  can  help  you,  comrades.  Keren- 
sky  is  at  the  headquarters  of  the  General 
Staff." 

"We  brought  this  resolution,"  said  one  of 
them,  and  he  handed  me  a  paper  with  the  seal 
of  the  steamer  committee  of  the  cruiser  Aurora, 

I  read:  "Resolved  to  give  the  utmost  sup- 
port to  Comrade  Kerensky  and  to  the  Pro- 
visional Government  for  the  definite  fight 
against  reaction  and  for  the  saving  of  the  revo- 
lution." 

I  thanked  them  and  called  Minister  Scobe- 
liev,  who  welcomed  them.  Ten  minutes  later 
the  guard  of  the  Winter  Palace  was  replaced 
by  men  from  the  Aurora.  We  had  been 
through  a  paradoxical  and  dramatic  experi- 
ence. Prepared  for  an  uprising  we  had  found 
a  radical  Bolshevik  crowd  ready  to  defend  to 
the  last  drop  of  blood  Kerensky  and  the  revo- 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution  117 

lution;  while  the  "real  representatives  of 
democracy  and  Russian  patriotism"  had  de- 
serted and  were  at  that  instant  conferring  with 
the  English  Ambassador,  Sir  George  Bucha- 
nan, and  the  central  committee  of  the  Cadet 
Party!  We  learned  about  this  conference 
from  one  of  the  members  of  the  Foreign  Of- 
fice, at  four  o'clock  that  same  morning. 

Looking  back  now,  at  the  great  and  the 
minute  features  of  this  first  period  of  political 
struggle  of  the  revolution,  I  am  compelled  to 
recognize  the  strange  fact,  that  the  bearers  of 
the  national  flag  were  the  most  anti-national 
group,  whereas  the  extreme  internationalists, 
unconsciously  perhaps,  represented  the  real 
spirit  of  national  and  revolutionary  unity  when 
it  was  most  needed.  At  that  time  I  was  a 
political  enemy  of  the  Bolsheviki,  as  I  am  now 
a  philosophical  one.  I  felt  (as  I  feel  now) 
that  they  were  right  in  so  far  as  they  did  not 
accept  the  formulas  of  the  Russian  bourgeoisie 
— the  aspirations  of  European  capitalism.  The 
Russian  bourgeoisie  was  the  weakest  class  in 
Russia,  and  the  least  organized,  but  they  were 
pursuing  the  methods  of  their  well-organized 
European  colleagues.  They  could  not  imagine 
a  state  without  violence,  without  capital  pun- 


118    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

ishment,  without  force,  without  all  these  well- 
known  elements  of  European  civilization.  The 
weakness  of  Kerensky's  regime  lay  in  his  in- 
ability to  agree  with  either  the  Cadet  theory 
of  force  or  with  the  Bolshevist  extremism.  He 
remained  alone,  as  far  as  coalition  with  the 
bourgeoisie  was  concerned,  and  the  other  wing 
of  the  Russian  Revolution,  the  non-Bolshevist 
Socialists,  were  too  deeply  impregnated  with 
European  methods  to  be  of  assistance.  Our 
leaders,  like  MartofiP,  Tscheidze,  and  others, 
despite  all  their  philosophic  training  and 
knowledge  did  not  go  further  than  their  Eu- 
ropean teachers.  They  were  real  Socialists, 
doctrinaires,  who  thought  in  formulas,  in  ab- 
stractions, in  principles,  but  not  in  terms  of 
real  conditions  and  probabilities.  They  held 
fast  to  the  old  idea  of  a  mechanical  organiza- 
tion of  the  masses.  Given  the  masses,  they 
thought,  and  certain  old  slogans,  they  would 
be  able  to  lead  the  mass  alwaj^s,  and  to  carry 
out  their  program.  According  to  the  Marxian 
creed  they  asserted  that  the  revolution  was  a 
bourgeois  revolution,  a  capitalistic  revolution; 
that  we  were  not  sufficiently  advanced  for  any 
other  kind  of  a  revolution;  and  that  there- 
fore the  bourgeoisie  had  to  continue  the  revo- 


The  Recovery  of  E evolution  119 

lution,  and  to  control  the  state,  and  that  it  was 
our  mission  and  province  to  criticize.  This 
abstract  formula  led  them  to  renounce  any  par- 
ticipation in  the  government  or  in  any  social 
experiment  which  differed  from  the  old  pre- 
scribed requirements  for  a  bourgeois  capital- 
istic revolution.  They  were  thus  called  upon 
to  face,  very  soon,  and  for  the  first  time  in 
Europe,  a  most  unfortunate  state  of  affairs. 
The  masses,  organized  only  for  the  sake  of 
organization;  the  masses,  brought  together 
only  for  criticism  and  not  for  governmental 
work,  soon  left  them.  Thus  the  non-Bolshevik 
Socialists  lost  their  authority  and  influence, 
and  the  people  remained  alone,  without  lead- 
ership, transformed  into  a  crowd  with  only  one 
feeling — discouragement.  Looking  back  now 
at  that  period  of  the  Russian  Revolution  it 
becomes  clear  to  me  that  the  Bolsheviki  did  not 
seize  power.  They  accepted  it.  They  ac- 
cepted it  at  a  time  when  authority  no  longer 
resided  in  Russia  either  in  a  government  or 
in  a  leader.  The  revolution  of  October,  1917, 
cannot,  it  seems  to  me,  be  called  a  revolution. 
It  was  a  spontaneous  renewal  of  power 
through  a  new  form  of  social  organization. 
Thus  Bolshevism  came,  partly  as  the  logical 


120    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

result  of  the  Russian  Revolution,  and  partly  as 
the  outcome  of  importing  European  ideals  and 
principles.  When  Bolshevism  is  spoken  of 
to-day  as  a  system  it  is  the  European  element 
that  is  referred  to.  What  does  Bolshevism 
mean  in  common  parlance?  How  is  the  word 
assayed  by  journalists  and  diplomats?  Three 
essential  characteristics  seem  to  stand  out  in 
any  popular  discussion  of  the  phenomenon. 
First,  Bolshevism  is  a  denial  of  old  constitu- 
tional formulas.  Second,  it  is  a  violation  of 
old  liberal  rights.  And  third,  it  is  the  repudia- 
tion of  diplomatic  promises  and  international 
agreements.  Of  course  Bolshevism,  in  com- 
mon judgment,  means  many  other  wicked  and 
monstrous  things,  but  these  three  features 
dominate  all  others.  Let  us  accept  this  char- 
acterization for  the  moment  without  inquiring 
how  adequately  it  describes  the  government  of 
Soviet  Russia,  and  then  let  us  see  who  are  the 
foremost  exponents  of  the  Bolshevist  system 
in  Europe. 

When  the  German  Chancellor  declared  in 
the  German  Reichstag  that  the  agreement  as 
to  the  neutrality  of  Belgium  was  only  a  scrap 
of  paper,  was  he  a  Bolshevik  or  not?  When 
Franz  Joseph  Second  sent  the  ultimatum  to 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         121 

Serbia  and  declared  war  in  spite  of  the  satis- 
faction Serbia  was  willing  to  give,  was  he  a 
Bolshevik  or  not?  When  the  German  generals 
suppressed  any  opposition  on  the  part  of  the 
civil  population  of  Belgium  and  Von  Buelow 
and  Bissingen  acted  in  terroristic  fashion,  was 
it  not  the  "Bolshevist"  spirit  of  modern  Eu- 
rope, which  knows  only  the  right  of  force  and 
recognizes  no  obligations  attached  to  right  that 
feared  them?  Wlien  Russian  soldiers  in 
France,  free  soldiers  of  the  Russian  Revolu- 
tion, wanted  to  celebrate  their  own  freedom, 
and  many  of  them  were  shot  by  order  of  the 
French  General  Staff — was  that  Bolshevism 

or  not?  When  Russian  soldiers  who  did  not 
want  to  go  to  Denikin  or  to  Kolchak  to  take 
Moscow  were  put  on  a  French  steamer  at 
Marseilles  and  were  told  that  they  were  being 
sent  home,  and  afterwards,  far  out  at  sea  were 
told  that  they  were  destined  for  Vladivostok, 
Novorosisk,  and  Archangel — (and  these  men 
are  now  working  as  slaves  in  French  colonies 
in  Africa  because  they  resisted  and  protested) 
— ^was  that  Bolshevism  or  not?  That  was  the 
rule  imposed  on  Russian  citizens  by  a  foreign 
power,  because  forsooth,  they  dared  to  have 
ideas  of  their  own.     Was  that  Bolshevism? 


122    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

And  when,  after  the  downfall  of  Kerensky, 
the  English  and  French  governments  confis- 
cated all  the  funds  of  the  Russian  embassies, 
was  that  less  Bolshevist  than  the  reported  raids 
on  the  French  and  English  embassies  in  Pet- 
rograd? 

As  far  as  methods  and  system  are  concerned 
we  have  to  confess  that  the  ferocious  spirit 
of  militarist  Europe  is  in  no  sense  different 
from  the  methods  and  system  ascribed  to  Bol- 
shevism by  its  most  bitter  opponents.  The 
Russian  radicals  who  came  into  power  after 
the  downfall  of  the  Russo-European  doctrin- 
aires and  the  Russo-European  hypocritical 
democracy,  had  to  face  a  gigantic  problem  of 
state  policy.  Kerensky's  example  of  naive 
credulity  and  idealistic  faith  had  sho^vn  that 
it  was  impossible  to  work  and  carry  out  any 
principle  in  Europe  without  concrete  real 
force,  the  only  difference  being  that  Lenin, 
the  world  ideahst  and  almost  religious  theoreti- 
cian of  Socialism,  was  ready  to  adopt  a  method 
imposed  upon  him  by  the  rest  of  the  world. 
He  alone  was  consistent.  He  did  not  attack. 
He  was  assailed.  Although  represented  as  a 
promoter  of  violence,  Lenin  simply  followed 
the  only  course  which  remained  for  the  Rus- 


The  Recovery  of  Revolution         123 

sian  Revolution.  Kerensky  saw  that  he  was 
undermined  by  the  doctrine  of  state  force.  He 
was  unable  to  use  these  elements  against  his 
enemies.  Lenin  understood,  and  bowed  to  the 
inevitable. 

We  need  not  go  so  far  back  as  the  Robes- 
pierre period  of  the  French  Revolution,  or  to 
the  events  of  1871.  We  have  only  to  look 
about  us  and  to  analyze  the  state  system  of 
modern  Europe,  and  we  shall  see  that  there  is 
no  difference  in  principle  and  in  methods  be- 
tween parliamentary  England  and  France  or 
old  Germany  and  the  first  period  of  the  Bol- 
shevist government.  JNIodern  Europe  did  not 
want  to  deal  with  the  Russian  Revolution. 
Modern  Europe,  through  the  unorganized 
Russian  bourgeoisie,  through  the  organized 
Alliance  of  the  Entente,  through  the  politics 
of  orthodox  Socialism,  has  compelled  revolu- 
tionary Russia  to  follow  the  methods  of  a  dic- 
tatorship, having  overthrown  the  pure  Russian 
impetus  toward  governing  by  moral  authority 
as  Kerensky  naively  hoped  to  do. 

It  was  not  Lenin  who  took  the  power  away 
from  the  Russian  government  in  order  to  pos- 
sess it  himself.  It  was  modern  Europe  that, 
as  a  new  Machiavelli,  or  as  an  old  JNIachia- 


124    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

velli  in  a  new  form,  gave  this  power  to  Lenin, 
and  that  now  resents  and  fights  against  his 
possession  of  it.  The  opposition  of  Europe  to 
Soviet  Russia  is,  in  other  words,  nothing  less 
than  an  attack  upon  its  own  most  cherished 
principles.  Europe  fights  against  its  shadow, 
and  beholding  its  shadow — is  afraid! 


CHAPTER  V 

REVOLUTIONARY   CONTRADICTIONS 

I  SHALL  deal  later  with  Bolshevism,  or 
rather  Sovietism,  as  an  idea.  Thus  far  I  have 
dealt  only  with  the  methods  by  which  it  was 
brought  to  expression  in  thought  and  act  in 
the  various  European  countries — the  French 
method  in  Petrograd,  the  English  in  Moscow. 
The  Russian  Revolution  as  a  whole,  and  espe- 
cially its  last  period,  was  less  a  consistent  re- 
action against  the  general  spirit  of  modern 
Europe  than  an  involuntary  adoption  of  the 
methods  of  modern  Europe,  methods  based  on 
the  principle — an  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth,  which  Europe  has  followed  in  a  manner 
which  Machiavelli  himself  could  not  improve. 
Still,  it  is  of  importance  to  understand  clearly 
that  the  Russian  Revolution  was  possible  be- 
cause the  large  masses  of  the  people  were  not 
nationalistic  during  the  war.  Under  war  con- 
ditions nationalism  could  not  bring  about  a 

125 


126    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

revolution:  The  necessity  for  a  united  front 
made  any  political  crisis  impossible.  With  the 
enemy  at  hand  nationalist  feeling  develops  into 
chauvinism.  That  is  why  the  German  Revolu- 
tion was  so  different  from  the  Russian.  No 
genuine  revolution,  no  renaissance  of  the  spirit, 
no  renewal  of  social  aspirations,  no  fructifica- 
tion of  new  ideas — took  place  in  Germany  for 
its  fiercely  nationalistic  tendencies  had  never 
been  weakened.  Only  a  couple  of  weeks  before 
Kaiser  Wilhelm  left  Germany,  Schiedemann 
had  become  a  member  of  his  cabinet.  A  coali- 
tion between  the  bourgeoisie  and  the  Socialists, 
not  only  in  Parliament  but  in  the  administra- 
tion, was  completed  on  the  very  eve  of  the 
imperial  downfall. 

The  leading  political  forces  in  Germany,  in 
other  words,  were  far  from  being  moved  by 
revolutionary  ideas.  Being  Socialists  and 
therefore  Republicans,  they  could  not,  facing 
a  national  collapse,  decide  upon  a  revolution. 
The  situation  recalls  to  my  mind  an  episode  in 
April,  1917,  in  Rostov-on-Don,  Russia.  A 
number  of  German  prisoners  had  arranged  for 
a  meeting  of  Germans  in  this  town  to  congratu- 
late the  Russians  on  their  revolution.  The  old 
Russian  Social  Democrat  leader,  I.  Ramish- 


Revolutionary  Contradictions         127 

viliy,  later  the  leader  of  the  Georgian  govern- 
ment, addressed  this  meeting,  and  asked  why 
the  same  German  prisoners,  when  they  were 
on  the  other  side  of  the  trench  wires,  had  been 
willing  to  fight  since  they  were  such  devoted 
friends  to  Russia.  Why  had  they  not,  at  the 
very  beginning  of  the  war,  protested  against 
the  Kaiser?  It  would  have  been,  then,  a  sig- 
nal for  a  revolution  against  the  war. 

A  German  captain  answered,  amid  cheers 
from  his  fellow  countrymen  and  general  laugh- 
ter from  the  Russians:  "Because  we  were  first 
of  all  Germans." 

Scheidemann,  realizing  at  that  time  that  his 
country  was  defeated  politically,  that  the  idea 
of  conquest  was  dead,  and  that  a  real  revolu- 
tion would  rouse  the  rest  of  the  world  to 
aggression — Scheidemann  accepted  a  portfolio 
in  Kaiser  Wilhelm's  cabinet,  and,  like  this 
German  captain,  he  was  first  of  all  a  Ger- 
man. 

I  remember  those  days  in  Germany  well, 
and  I  cannot  resist  the  conviction  that  the 
Kaiser  was  overthrown  not  by  the  German  So- 
cialists, but  by  President  Wilson.  Every  note 
of  the  Secretary  of  State,  Lansing,  declaring 
more  and  more  clearly  that  negotiations  with 


128    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  German  people  only  would  be  considered, 
and  that  no  treaties  would  be  made  with  the 
personalities  who  were  responsible  for  the  war 
and  who  had  conducted  the  war,  was  like  a  new 
blow  upon  the  head  of  Scheidemann's  group. 
It  was  a  perplexing  moment  for  them.  A 
member  of  an  imperial  government,  and,  at 
the  same  time  a  member  of  the  Social  Demo- 
cratic Party,  Scheidemann  had  to  choose  either 
to  support  the  Kaiser  unconditionally,  and  so 
to  lose  forever  the  masses;  or  to  make  a  last 
attempt  to  conserve  the  allegiance  of  the  labor- 
ing people,  for  a  short  time  at  least,  and  to 
submit  to  President  Wilson's  will.  The  latter 
course  meant  the  overthrow  of  Wilhelm.  It 
was  not  a  revolution. 

I  remember  the  first  days  of  the  armistice, 
after  the  Kaiser  had  fled  to  Holland.  Ger- 
man armies  were  vacating  the  western  front 
and  going  back  to  Germany.  I  met  many  sol- 
diers and  talked  to  them,  in  Frankfort,  in 
Diisseldorf,  in  Cologne.  I  received  almost  the 
same  answer  to  my  many  questions.  "We  are 
a  people  of  order.  We  will  maintain  order. 
The  Kaiser  did  not  succeed,  therefore  he  Is 
down,  but  we  will  maintain  our  stability  with- 
out him.    We  are  an  orderly  people." 


Revolutionary  Contradictions         129 

There   spoke   the   voice   of   the   wonderful 
mihtaristic  German  machine  with  its  implac- 
able negligence  of  personal  aspirations.    There 
was  no   sense   of  relief  from   autocracy,   no 
hatred  of  the  old  regime.    The  poison  had  been 
too  effective.    I  could  not  help  comparing  the 
attitude  of  the  Russian  soldiers  of  the  first 
days  of  the  Russian  Revolution  with  the  mood 
of  the  German  soldiers  who  filled  all  the  halls 
and  rooms  of  the  railroad  station  in  Cologne 
that  night  in  November  of  1918.    The  Russian 
muzhiks  had  been  proud  of  their  red  ribbons. 
They  had  sung  and  played  the  Marseillaise. 
They  had  enjoyed  almost  wildly  their  new 
freedom.     The  several  thousand  German  sol- 
diers in  the  station  at  Cologne  were  sitting  on 
benches,  lying  on  the  floors,  silent,  with  set 
faces,  looking  as  if  deeply  troubled  by  newly 
mobilized  thoughts.    Somewhere  in  a  corner  a 
stupid  melody  was  being  played  on  a  mando- 
lin.     There    was    no    conversation.      It    was 
strange  to  walk  among  these  gray-coated  and 
gray-capped  men,  and  feel  the  silence  of  a 
graveyard,  rather  than  the  silence  which  pre- 
cedes a  thunderstorm.     A  quiet  voice,  from 
time  to  time,  called  out  some  numbers  and 
some  hundreds  of  soldiers  arose  at  each  an- 


130    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

nouncement  and  went  quietly  away  to  take 
their  train  homeward.  It  was  the  silence  of  a 
defeated  nation.  They  seemed  to  sense  that 
they  were  going  to  be  punished,  severely  pun- 
ished, and  they  knew  by  what  means  their 
punishment  would  reach  them.  Their  old  Iron 
Chancellor,  Bismarck,  had  punished  France  in 
the  same  way,  once  upon  a  time,  and  the  Ger- 
man soldiers  and  Scheidemann,  the  head  of  the 
German  "revolution,"  all  felt  that  their  turn 
had  come.  That  is  why  politically  Germany 
remained  almost  unchanged,  the  spirit  of  na- 
tional offense  prevented  a  spiritual  revolution. 
The  Soldaten-rat  (Soldiers'  Council)  was  the 
only  exception.  The  backwardness  of  the  Ger- 
man Social  Democracy,  governed  by  the  same 
official  nationalism  shown  during  the  war, 
brought  about  a  kind  of  social  stagnation,  so 
that  the  Germans  remained,  socialty,  during 
the  first  period  after  the  armistice,  the  same 
nation  they  had  been  during  the  previous  ten 
or  fifteen  years.  Therefore  it  was  possible  for 
Liebknecht  and  Luxemburg  to  be  killed  while 
Noske  and  Ebert  stumbled  about  in  the  shoes 
of  Bismarck.  The  national  feeling  in  Ger- 
many blinded  the  eyes  of  the  Germans  to  such 
a  degree  that  practically  they  employed  blood 


Revolutionary  Contradictions         131 

and  iron,  not  so  much  to  extirpate  Bolshevism 
or  Sovietism,  as  maintain  the  power  of  the 
well-organized  German  bourgeoisie.  And  the 
latter  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  Ger- 
man Revolution  suppressed  not  by  themselves, 
but  by  the  Sociahsts.  They  left  the  responsi- 
bility for  conservatism  to  the  old  played-out 
leaders  of  the  Social  Democracy,  and  kept  for 
themselves  an  unsullied  political  record  in  the 
post-Kaiser  period.  The  Germany  of  to-day 
differs  very  little  from  the  Germany  of  yes- 
terday, or  from  the  France  and  England  of 
to-day.  The  old  centralistic  traditions  remain. 
There  is  no  relief  from  any  of  the  old  op- 
pressors. The  peace  treaty  only  intensified  and 
narrowed  the  national  spirit  in  Germany,  and 
closed  the  door  to  a  new  moral  and  social  life. 
Where  nationalism  is  the  basis  of  a  state  and 
the  people's  lives,  it  is  impossible  to  expect  a 
new  social  and  international  insight.  The  ex- 
clusion of  Germany  from  the  league  of  na- 
tions was  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  many 
mistakes  made  by  the  Alhed  powers.  It  has 
created  a  strong  force  against  themselves,  a 
hindrance  to  their  new  "democratic"  order. 

Almost   the   same   conditions    prevailed   in 
Austria,  where  the  national  spirit  became  more 


132    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

acute  because  of  the  nationalistic  tendencies  of 
their  former  enemies  and  present  neighbors,  the 
Poles,  the  Ukrainians,  the  Hungarians,  and 
the  Czecho-Slovaks.  The  Austrian  Revolution 
was  likewise  born  under  the  tri-colored  flag  of 
Deutsch-Oesterrich. 

I  remember  the  aged  Victor  Adler,  on  his 
return  from  a  conference  with  Emperor 
Charles  of  Austria,  being  asked  in  one  of  the 
stalls  of  the  Austrian  Parliament,  what  im- 
pression that  conference  in  Schonbrunn  had 
left  on  him.  He  answered  with  a  weary  smile : 
"He  is  a  good  young  fellow — but  not  for  a 
throne.  He  probably  plays  a  good  game  of 
billiards."  And  when  this  young  "good  fel- 
low" disappeared,  Austria  became  mechan- 
ically a  republic,  built  on  a  patriotic  national 
basis.  From  my  place  on  the  balcony  of  the 
Palace  of  Minerva,  in  Vienna,  I  heard  not  a 
word  of  a  new  social  order.  Dr.  Renner  and 
Herr  Seitz,  both  Socialist  leaders,  hoped  for 
unity  only  for  the  sake  of  the  country  and  for 
the  saving  of  the  German-Austrian  nation. 
The  only  sign  of  a  revolution  was  in  a  half- 
humorous  incident  that  occurred  when  the 
proclamation  of  the  republic  was  read.  When 
the  President  of  the  Provisional  National  As- 


Revolutionary  Contradictions         133 

sembly,  Dr.  Dighofer,  cried  out:  "Long  live 
the  German- Austrian  Republic!"  the  national 
flag  was  hoisted.  Someone  had  torn  away  the 
other  two  colors  and  left  only  the  red,  and 
thousands  were  cheering,  but  no  one  knew  what 
kind  of  a  republic  was  being  cheered, — whether 
it  was  the  old  German- Austrian  Republic  or 
a  new  "Red"  Republic. 

I  do  not  blame  nor  do  I  even  pretend  to 
judge  the  Germans  and  the  Austrians  of  that 
time.  I  only  wish  to  make  plain  that  nation- 
ality was  the  most  instrumental,  and  perhaps 
the  only  instrumental  feature,  of  the  revolu- 
tion in  the  two  countries.  They  overlooked  the 
basic  social  adjustments  that  were  imperatively 
called  for  by  the  condition  of  modern  Europe, 
and  therefore  they  were,  and  still  are,  unable 
to  find  any  solutions  of  the  problems  they  have 
to  face.  The  critical  international  position  of 
the  Central  Republics  has  been,  of  course,  one 
of  the  main  factors  in  keeping  patriotic  senti- 
ments at  fever  heat.  This  has  been  a  great 
hindrance  to  projects  for  a  new  social  order; 
for,  apart  from  the  desperate  character  of  the 
economic  situation,  there  are  good  reasons  for 
believing  that  nationalism  is  not  an  adequate 
basis  for  a  country's  life.    Nationalism  can  be- 


134    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

come  a  helpful  governing  factor  in  the  develop- 
ment of  a  people  only  when  it  is  rejected  as  the 
be-all  and  end-all  of  its  institutions.  Taken  as 
a  foundation  for  the  structure  of  the  state, 
nationalism  perpetually  degenerates  into  ego- 
tism, selfishness,  and  imperialism — or  into  pas- 
sive retrogression.  The  Poles  are  the  latest 
examples  of  this  deteriorative  tendency.  Their 
whole  political  hfe,  for  many  years,  has  been 
based  upon  the  assertion  of  nationalism.  That 
is  why  they  are  now  the  most  aggressive  na- 
tion in  Europe.  The  boundary  controversies 
that  are  seething  in  that  caldron  of  little  states 
which  was  once  the  Central  Empires  arise  from 
similar  causes.  National  aggressions  and  na- 
tional assertions  create  a  heavy  fume  of  "pa- 
triotism" which  obscures  the  necessity  for 
internal  reconstruction.  In  that  atmosphere  a 
revolution  is  impossible. 

Out  of  this  immense  cloud  of  potential  revo- 
lution in  Europe  one  real  revolution  was  pre- 
cipitated— that  of  Bavaria.  Walking  in  the 
streets  of  Munich,  the  capital  of  European 
artistic  Bohemia,  I  felt  all  the  time  as  if  I  were 
in  Petrograd  in  the  March  of  1917.  The  en- 
thusiasm for  the  new  life  as  represented  by 
Kurt  Eisner,  and  the  hatred  for  the  old,  was 


Revolutionary  Contradictions        135 

patent  in  the  tone  and  gesture  of  the  city.  The 
soldier  at  the  door  of  the  Ministry  of  Foreign 
Affairs  (Kurt  Eisner's  office),  the  guards  at 
the  Royal  Palace,  were  manifestly  creating 
their  own  new  order.  The  thought  struck  me 
at  that  time — how  different  was  Munich  from 
Cracow,  Prague,  Vienna,  or  Berlin;  and  the 
difference  was  due  to  the  spirit  of  Kurt  Eisner 
and  Professor  Foerster.  During  the  war  Kurt 
Eisner  never  let  slip  an  opportunity  to  express 
his  opinion  that  Germany  was  guilty  and  that 
in  many  respects  the  AlHes  were  in  the  right. 
It  was  he  who  was  the  maker  of  the  first  revo- 
lution in  the  German  states.  Bavaria  over- 
threw King  Leopold  at  the  moment  of  Ger- 
many's defeat,  not  because  Mr.  Wilson  wanted 
it  done,  but  because  the  intransigeant  Kurt 
Eisner  felt  that  that  was  the  moment  to  win 
the  victory  of  which  he  had  long  dreamed.  It 
was  the  result  of  activity  and  not  of  a  passive 
acquiescence — a  contrast  to  what  happened  in 
Vienna  and  Berlin.  Kurt  Eisner's  first  efforts 
were  directed  to  the  culmination  of  the  idea  of 
a  narrow  nationalist  patriotism.  Since  nation- 
alism had  engendered  the  war,  it  could  not  be 
a  point  of  departure  for  revolution.  Eisner, 
the  leader  of  a  revolution,  inscribed  its  banner 


136    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

with  the  words  cooperation  and  solidarity. 
The  old  patriotic  slogans  were  discarded.  He 
dreaded  a  fictitious  "national"  unity  imposed 
by  Berlin.  The  relations  between  Munich  and 
Berlin  were  far  from  amicable.  I  recall  a  con- 
versation I  had  with  Eisner  in  his  office  in  the 
Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs  in  Munich,  and  I 
still  see  his  wonderful  cheery  smile,  his  ven- 
arable  gray  hair,  his  slow  mild  motions,  and  I 
hear  his  quiet,  almost  tender  voice.  This  was 
a  different  man  from  the  Kurt  Eisner  of  the 
platform.  I  was  rather  surprised  to  see  the 
portrait  of  the  Bavarian  ex-king,  Leopold, 
hanging  on  the  wall.  I  looked  my  surprise. 
Eisner  understood,  and  with  his  kindly  smile 
said,  "I  do  not  mind.  It  is  perhaps  a  pleasure 
for  him  to  see  a  new  Bavaria."  "Wlien  I  asked 
him  about  Germany  in  general,  an  almost  stern 
look  came  over  his  face.  "I  care  not  at  all  for 
Germany.  As  long  as  the  Germans  are  guided 
by  Berlin  they  do  not  interest  me.  We  have 
to  get  rid  of  Prussia."  These  were  the  words 
of  a  man  who  was  moved  by  a  new  spirit,  who 
wanted  a  new  order  and  not  merely  a  new  name 
for  a  slight  change  of  the  old.  Just  at  that 
time  Switzerland  had  expelled  some  represen- 
tative of  the  Soviet  government  who  wanted 


Revolutionary  Contradictions         137 

to  get  to  Moscow  through  Bavaria.  Kurt 
Eisner  told  me  this,  and  added,  "I  refused  to 
give  them  passes.  I  do  not  want,  directly  or 
indirectly,  to  have  any  relation  with  the  Gen- 
eral Staff."  He  could  not  forgive  the  peace 
of  Brest-Litovsk.  Neither  Lenin,  who  ac- 
cepted the  peace,  nor  Scheidemann,  who  did 
not  protest  against  it,  could  he  tolerate. 

I  asked  him  if  he  thought  Bolshevism  would 
be  possible  in  Bavaria.  "I  rather  think  not," 
was  the  answer.  "We  are  a  countrj^  of  peas- 
ants and  not  of  proletarians,  and  even  our 
agriculture  is  not  fully  developed.  Socially  I 
do  not  see  any  possibilities  of  extremism;  but 
the  political  conditions  may  bring  about  a  max- 
imalism  of  the  masses.  It  depends  a  gi*eat  deal 
upon  the  Entente.  Although  unofficially  we 
are  on  good  terms  with  them,  I  have  just  re- 
ceived from  Foerster  (the  ambassador  of  the 
new  Bavaria  in  Switzerland)  very  good  news 
concerning  this  matter,  but  the  stumbHng- 
block  is  Berlin." 

Berlin  was  Eisner's  idee  pee.  He  saw  in 
imperial  Berlin  not  merely  the  enemy  of  the 
Allies  but  the  enemy  of  Germany  itself.  How 
little  encouragement  the  Allies  actually  gave 
to  Bavaria's  attempt  to  break  away  from  the 


138    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

domination  of  Berlin  is  a  matter  of  familiar 
history.  The  same  international  factors  that 
had  played  their  part  in  the  first  Russian  Revo- 
lution came  to  the  front  iu  southern  Germany, 
and  Bavaria  went  through  a  period  of  Bolshe- 
vism. Bavaria,  however,  had  not  the  strength 
which  Russia  derived  from  her  fundamental 
resources  and  her  isolation.  Beaten  between 
the  hammer  of  Noske  and  the  anvil  of  Clemen- 
ceau,  the  Bavarian  Revolution  was  crushed  out 
of  existence.  For  the  sake  of  preserving  the 
familiar  forms  of  bourgeois  government  in 
Germany  the  Allies  were  ready  to  keep  the 
old  state  machine  going  and  support  the  cen- 
tralized domination  of  Berlin.  They  were  not 
willing  to  break  up  the  German  Empire  as 
long  as  that  could  be  accomplished  only  by 
breaking  up  the  system  upon  which  the  govern- 
ments of  the  bourgeois  western  democracies  are 

based. 

From  this  brief  play  of  lights  and  side- 
lights upon  the  various  revolutions  with  which 
I  have  had  personal  contact  during  the  last 
three  years  what  conclusions  can  be  drawn 
about  the  nature  of  revolution  itself?  What 
is  the  significance  of  a  revolution  in  our  times? 
What  is  its  contribution  to  our  times?    What 


Revolutionary  Contradictions        139 

is  the  relation  of  revolution  to  the  normal  proc- 
esses of  the  body  politic? 

Plainly  a  revolution  is  not  an  end  in  itself. 
About  the  goal  toward  which  it  may  move 
there  is  perhaps  ground  for  differences  of 
opinion.  It  seems  to  me  that  a  revolution 
should  not  be  considered  as  a  mere  shifting  of 
political  gears,  for  the  purpose  of  speeding  the 
state  machine  toward  social  or  political  maxi- 
malism.  A  revolution  is  essentially  something 
much  more  deeply  human  and  personal  than 
that.  It  is  primarily  a  protest  against  tra- 
ditions, policies,  and  prejudices  that  have  been 
accumulated  in  the  growth  of  a  state.  It  is  a 
new  effort  of  life  to  break  through  the'  stifling 
envelope  that  was  created  originally  to  protect 
it.  A  revolution  cannot  according^  be  made 
— it  must  spontaneously  grow.  It  is  born  in 
the  womb  of  the  nation  itself,  and  it  makes  its 
way  violently  into  the  light  of  day,  under  a 
baptism  of  blood.  A  metaphor  does  not  carry 
us  very  far  in  discussing  the  characteristics  of 
a  revolution:  for  a  revolution  has  the  unique 
feature  of  attaining  its  highest  point  of  crea- 
tive effort  at  the  very  first  outburst  of  de- 
struction. A  revolution  without  violence  can 
have  no  creative  power,  at  least  during  its  first 


140    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

period.  Its  value  is  in  proportion  to  the 
thoroughness  with  which  it  is  able  to  sweep 
away  a  clotted  mass  of  dead  theories  and  ar- 
chaic institutions. 

We  can  discover  some  measure  of  the  task 
set  before  a  European  revolution  if  we  recall 
the  characteristics  of  the  old  order  in  Europe. 
The  old  order  was  based — as  I  have  emphatic- 
ally pointed  out — upon  a  mechanical  kind  of 
social  solidarity,  upon  chauvinism,  upon  a  fa- 
natic belief  in  the  divine  mission  of  the  state. 
Society  was  permanently  under  the  pressure 
of  these  conceptions.  The  notion  of  moral 
solidarity,  a  solidarity  conscious  of  its  respon- 
sibility for  the  structural  soundness  of  society, 
was  completely  lacking  in  the  old  order.  So- 
ciety, according  to  the  conventional  way  of 
thinking,  could  be  held  together  only  by  force 
from  without,  never  by  attraction  from  within. 
The  old  European  order  did  not  acknowledge 
any  responsibility  except  that  for  carrying  out 
the  plans  of  groups  which  dominated  it — in 
many  cases  the  plans  of  individual  rulers  and 
magnates.  The  masses  were  in  the  same  rela- 
tion to  the  state  as  a  factory  is  to  its  owner. 
The  owner  is  interested  in  the  efficiency  of  his 
factory,  and  in  trying  to  obtain  a  maximum 


Revolutionary  Contradictions         141 

output  he  will  usually  keep  his  machines  in 
good  order :  but  if  he  finds  it  possible  to  increase 
production  at  the  cost  of  the  machine's  life  he 
does  not  hesitate  to  do  so.    If  he  can  lower  the 
cost  of  repairs  and  upkeep,  and  increase  the 
immediate  returns  he  may  carry  out  a  penny- 
wise  economy  which  ends  finally  in  the  total 
collapse  of  his  factory  organization.    Whether 
this  degree  of  unenlightenment  is  character- 
istic of  all  factory  owners  it  was  beyond  doubt 
characteristic  of  the  rulers  of  modern  Europe. 
The  war  came.    The  machines  went  to  pieces. 
The  organization  broke  down.     And  in  that 
terrible  moment  the  upholders  of  the  old  order 
discovered    that    the    instruments    which    the 
state  had  been  treating  as  machines  were  in 
fact  conscious  human  beings  with  ideas  of  their 
own  about  the  life  they  purposed  to  live.    The 
revolution  was,  in  a  comprehensive  sense,  a  re- 
lease from  machinery — the  political  machinery 
of  the  ballot,  the  social  machinery  of  classes, 
the    religious    machinery    of    ecclesiasticism. 
Life  unlocked  the  armor  of  machinery,  and 
breathed  freely  and  moved  nimbly  once  more. 
The  value  of  a  revolution  can  be  measured 
by  the  extent  of  its  destruction.    Here  lies  the 
tragedy  and  the  contradiction  of  revolution. 


142    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

It  is  a  bitter  paradox.  "While  a  revolution  is  a 
protest  against  violence,  brutal  force,  mechani- 
cal constriction,  and  human  oppression,  it  is 
compelled  to  use  violent  means  against  the  ele- 
ments which  made  it  possible.  Benevolence 
cannot  be  its  primary  characteristic:  it  cannot 
wish  the  old  order  well,  for  its  very  nature 
forces  it  to  the  repulsive  task  of  extermination. 
The  tragic  dilemma  of  a  revolution  is  that  it 
can  clear  the  ground  for  its  ideals  only  by 
using  methods  which  undermine  them!  It  is 
useless  to  deny  the  necessity  for  destruction; 
it  is  rather  much  more  to  the  point  to  dis- 
criminate between  the  sort  of  havoc  revolu- 
tion brings  in  its  wake  and  that  which  war 
produces.  Essentially,  both  war  and  revolu- 
tion work  with  the  same  instruments.  There 
is,  however,  as  much  difference  between  inter- 
national wars  formally  declared  by  govern- 
ments and  civil  wars  begun  without  declara- 
tion by  peoples  as  there  is  between  the  knife  of 
the  murderer  and  the  knife  of  the  surgeon. 
And  it  is  the  same  kind  of  difference.  The 
murderer  kills  in  the  act  of  gratifying  revenge 
or  seizing  loot.  His  victim  dies  perhaps  with- 
out pain.  The  surgeon's  knife,  on  the  con- 
trary, may  cut  with  exquisite  torture,  but  the 


It  evolutionary  Contradictions        143 

surgeon  uses  it  on  his  patient,  regardless  of 
the  shock,  the  loss  of  blood,  and  the  discomfort, 
in  order  that  he  may  remove  a  tumor  and  save 
a  life. 


CHAPTER  VI 

ADDITIONAL   CONTEMPLATIONS 

It  was  towards  the  end  of  August  in  1918, 
near  to  the  small  town  of  Proskurov  in  south- 
western Russia,  that  I  saw  for  the  first  time  the 
ravages  of  war.  My  train  was  on  the  way  to  the 
Austrian  border,  and  all  along  the  way,  from 
the  border  almost  to  Cracow,  I  saw  great  holes 
in  the  fields,  made  by  the  huge  shells  which  had 
been  fired  by  the  Russian  and  Austrian  armies 
which  had  been  fighting  there.  The  fields  were 
not  long  to  remain  peaceful:  two  or  three 
months  later  they  became  the  stage  of  the 
Ukrainian-Polish  conflict.  But  as  I  rode  by 
them  there  lay  over  the  landscape  a  mournful 
serenity — not  the  peace  of  life,  but  the  peace 
of  death.  I  do  not  remember  a  single  house 
along  the  wayside  that  stood  intact,  or  that 
could  be  called  a  house.  There  were  piles  of 
bricks,  with  half  a  wall,  or  two  walls  standing 
about  a  chimney.    For  thousands  of  kilometers 

144 


Additional  Contemplations  145 

wire  entanglements  and  trenches  ran  across 
the  fields  like  the  trail  of  a  huge  murderous 
serpent,  and  among  the  spots  of  green  that  re- 
mained here  and  there  were  scattered  these 
gashes  in  the  earth.  Instead  of  armies  of  men 
I  saw  armies  of  crosses  in  memory  of  the  men 
who  now  reposed  in  the  silence  of  death. 
Among  these  crosses,  and  among  these  great 
gashes  in  the  earth,  I  noticed  two  old  peasants, 
a  bent  old  couple,  gathering  a  scanty  harvest 
which  had  grown  over  the  graves  of  youth.  It 
was  a  silent  and  eloquent  sjTnbol.  Youth,  the 
best  and  greatest  of  it,  is  gone,  and  the  bent 
and  aged  and  exhausted  are  left  to  reap  the 
grain  that  grows  upon  their  graves.  Who  is 
left  to  carry  on  a  new  life?  Are  the  best  aged 
shoulders  strong  enough  to  carry  the  heavy 
burdens  of  war  and  its  results?  Hundreds  of 
thousands  of  coils  of  wire  remained  in  huge 
piles  on  the  field.  They  had  not  been  used  in 
the  war,  and  were  left  there  at  the  mercy  of 
wind  and  weather.  The  products  of  many 
thousand  precious  hours  of  human  labor  had 
been  transformed  into  smoke  and  fire,  de- 
stroyed forever.  It  is  impossible  to  recover 
this  work  of  human  hands.  I  asked  myself: 
"Was  it  only  those  material  values  that  were 


146    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

burned  and  shattered  and  buried  during  this 
war?  Is  it  possible  that  we  came  out  of  it  as 
we  went  into  it,  without  any  moral  or  spiritual 
loss?" 

I  could  not  help  thinking  that  he  who  has 
engaged  himself  to  the  work  of  killing,  if  only 
for  a  little  time,  must  lose  his  reverence  for 
human  life.  He  must  lose  his  consciousness 
of  the  value  of  seeing  eyes,  beating  hearts,  and 
speaking  lips.  Brutalization  is  inevitable.  I 
recalled  some  of  the  days  of  the  Russian  Revo- 
lution, and  I  compared  the  graves  under  this 
forest  of  crosses  with  the  graves  in  the  Place 
of  Mars,  in  Petrograd,  where  the  victims  of 
the  revolution  are  buried;  compared  the  bat- 
tle on  this  Galician  theater  of  war  with  the 
fight  in  the  streets  of  Petrograd,  Moscow  and 
Kief.  In  a  battle  man  is  always  the  same. 
He  kills — if  he  can.  That  is  his  business; 
therein  lies  his  value.  The  revolutionary  sol- 
diers of  Kerensky  were  fighting  under  the  ban- 
ner "Long  Live  Comrade  Kerensky."  I  saw 
them  at  the  front,  fighting,  and  they  were 
brutes,  murderers.  The  banner  was  for  them 
only  a  psychological  rallying  point  to  be  borne 
until  the  moment  of  the  first  shot,  the  first 
thrust  of  the  bayonet.    And  the  Red  Guards, 


Additional  Contemplations  147 

whom  I  saw  taking  Kief — their  atrocities  and 
savagery  which  were  described  as  devotion  to 
an  ideal,  differed  in  no  way  from  the  acts  of 
the  Tsar's  "patriotic"  soldiers  or  the  "heroic" 
performance  of  the  IMagyar  cavalry  on  the  Ga- 
lician  field. 

Later  in  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day  I 
came  to  a  little  to"\vn  in  Austrian  Galicia 
named  Podvolochiska.  There  must  have  been 
hot  fighting  in  and  around  this  little  village. 
I  could  not  find  a  single  undamaged  house  in 
the  center  of  the  town.  The  suburbs  and  the 
outskirts  of  the  town  had  been  entirely  de- 
stroyed. Since  my  train  to  Vienna  was  not  yet 
due  I  went  for  a  short  walk.  I  found  on  the 
bare  walls  of  some  houses  inscriptions  written 
with  charcoal,  in  Russian.  "The  second  bat- 
tery, dirty  Austrians."  "The  21st  battery 
kill  Jews."  Profane  words,  written  there  by 
an  enemy  army  which  had  happened  to  occupy 
this  little  town. 

How  strange  it  was  to  hear  a  song,  sung  by 
soft  childish  voices,  somewhere  far  in  the  dis- 
tance !  I  walked  in  the  direction  of  the  voices, 
and  as  I  walked  slowly,  in  almost  melancholy 
depression,  I  suddenly  noticed  that  the  pave- 
ment under  my  feet  was  of  white,  dark  and 


148    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

brown  marble, — the  last  substance  one  would 
expect  to  find  on  a  thoroughfare  in  a  war-de- 
stroyed village.  Obviously  this  marble  had 
been  brought  here  for  another  piu*pose.  I 
noted  that  these  paving  stones  bore  inscrip* 
tions,  and  I  read  words  in  Hebrew,  in  Polish, 
in  German. 

A  tall,  pale  Jew,  with  a  black  beard,  ap- 
proached me  with  curious  eyes.  He  saw  that 
I  was  a  foreigner,  and  probably  read  the  de- 
pression and  sadness  in  my  face,  for,  without 
waiting  for  me  to  question  him,  he  said,  "These 
are  the  gravestones  from  the  cemetery  which 
was  there."  He  stretched  out  his  hand  and 
pointed  to  a  distance.  "It  was  destroyed,"  he 
added.  He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then 
said  with  a  strange  smile,  "There  is  no  ceme- 
tery any  more.  Flat."  I  said  not  a  word  to 
him.  I  wandered  further  toward  the  young 
happy  voices  I  had  heard  singing.  I  went  on 
more  gravestones,  out  into  the  open  field,  in 
the  gloomy  shades  of  the  deepening  twilight. 
There,  at  some  distance,  near  the  edge  of  a 
forest,  was  a  circle  of  children  dancing  and 
singing.  I  began  to  walk  toward  them,  but 
soon  I  was  compelled  to  stop.  The  field  was 
indented  with  small  ditches  of  dirty  water  and 


Additional  Contemplations  149 

alive  with  frogs.  For  a  while  I  sensed  nothing 
but  absolute  silence.  My  ears  were  deaf  to 
the  sounds  of  the  children's  voices.  I  saw 
around  me  pieces  of  iron,  steel,  and — bones. 
The  skeleton  of  a  horse's  head,  and  a  pile  of 
bones  near  it.  I  picked  up  one  of  them  and 
stood  for  a  moment,  trying  to  ascertain  if  it 
had  belonged  to  the  skeleton  of  a  horse  or  of  a 
man. 

The  field  suddenly  seemed  full  of  shadows 
and  of  ghosts.  I  was  sure  that  beneath  the 
foul  water  in  these  ditches,  formerly  trenches, 
lay  the  bodies  of  men  who  had  fallen  and  were 
forgotten,  now  covered  with  slime  and  corrup- 
tion. 

I  walked  away  rapidly.  I  felt  fear  coming 
over  me.  Strange  that  I  should  be  afraid 
now,  for  I  had  not  felt  fear  under  fire,  when 
I  fought  on  the  Dvinsk  front.  I  had  not  been 
horrified  at  seeing  around  me  hundreds  of 
wounded  and  mutilated  men.  But  here,  in  the 
silence  of  a  deserted  battlefield,  I  became  a 
coward.  I  was  afraid  of  a  Nothing,  of  a  fig- 
ment and  of  the  shadows  of  my  own  exhausted 
brain  and  nerves.  I  ran  away.  I  did  not  at- 
tempt to  find  a  lodging  in  the  town,  but  hur- 
ried back  over  the  trottoir  of  gi-avestones,  back 


150    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

to  the  station,  where  I  waited  alone  until  morn- 
ing for  my  train  for  Vienna,  haunted  by  the 
ghosts  of  war  and  death. 

Recalling  now  the  thousands  of  impressions 
of  a  similar  nature,  it  seems  to  me  a  terrible, 
almost  a  criminal  mistake  to  think  of  the  events 
of  the  past  few  years  only  in  terms  of  economics 
— of  distribution,  production,  efficiency,  coop- 
eration between  labor  and  capital,  and  the  rest. 
Humanity  lost  more  than  the  equilibrium  of 
economic  relations  when  it  mixed  remnants  of 
human  bodies  with  steel  and  iron  and  left  them 
to  lie  mingled  with  the  bones  of  horses,  under 
the  dirty  water  of  frog-infested  ditches. 
Something  more  than  industrial  reconstruc- 
tion is  necessary  to  clear  the  fields  from  crosses 
and  the  cemeteries  from  shells.  Suppose  for 
a  moment  that  we  create  a  just,  rigorously 
equitable,  and  democratic  method  of  distribu- 
tion. Suppose  everyone  receives  his  proper 
ration,  as  he  deserves ;  suppose  that  capital  and 
labor  have  found  a  new  common  ground,  where 
they  can  deliberate,  adjust  grievances,  face 
their  common  problems,  and  repair  abuses  of 
power  and  authority.  What  will  all  this  mean 
to  the  millions  of  young  healthy  bodies,  rot- 
ting now  under  the  harvest  fields  or  under  the 


Additional  Contemplations  151 

waters  of  ditches?  How  can  we  bring  back 
the  immeasurable  values  which  were  burned  on 
the  seven  thousand  miles  of  the  European  war 
fronts?  Though  we  work  to  the  utmost  for 
a  whole  generation,  we  cannot  hope  to  re- 
place what  was  destroyed  here  in  one  brief 
hour. 

The  Russians  have  a  proverb,  that  "health 
goes  out  by  kilograms  but  comes  back  by  milli- 
grams." Every  year  of  the  war  will  require 
ten  or  more  years  for  recovery.  Past  wars, 
those  of  Napoleon,  Bliicher,  Wellington,  and 
Moltke,  are  as  nothing  by  comparison  with  this 
last  war.  When  Napoleon  completely  defeated 
his  enemies  in  1806  at  Erfurt,  he  captured  325 
cannon,  and  the  number  of  combatants  on  both 
sides  were  only  about  forty-two  thousand.  A 
poor  army  indeed,  in  comparison  with  the  ar- 
mies of  our  days,  when  in  a  small  attack  of 
only  "local  importance,"  technically  speaking, 
on  July  9,  1917,  at  Dvinsk,  were  killed  and 
wounded  from  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  until 
four  in  the  afternoon,  more  than  eleven  thou- 
sand soldiers,  or  more  than  a  quarter  of  both 
belligerent  armies  at  Erfurt.  It  will  be  im- 
possible, therefore,  to  recover  from  this  war  as 
quickly  as  France  recovered  in  1815. 


152    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

Our  civilization,  I  have  already  pointed  out, 
had  demoralized  all  individual  initiative  in 
present-day  Europe.  Without  protest  the 
peoples  of  the  world  had  acquiesced  in  the  war. 
And  in  spite  of  the  stern  and  incalculably  sig- 
nificant experience  of  the  five  bloody  years 
they  are  still  in  the  thrall  of  the  stale,  one- 
sided formulas  by  which  the  mind  of  Europe 
had  been  mechanically  regimented  before  the 
conflict  broke  out.  It  matters  little  that  our 
attention  has  been  called  to  the  possibilities  of 
reconstruction  and  industrial  democracy. 
These,  too,  are  the  skeletons  of  formulas,  and 
though  they  have  been  logically  articulated 
they  cannot  stir  and  breathe  and  move.  As  I 
passed  over  the  battlefields  of  our  friends  and 
enemies,  as  I  rambled  through  the  streets  of 
ruined  cities,  I  felt  that  our  plans  for  recon- 
struction remained  lamentably  weak  and  in- 
sufiicient.  Our  industrial  problems  and  our 
social  difficulties  could  not  be  attacked  by  sim- 
ple mechanical  instruments.  The  question 
was  not  simply  one  of  engineering.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  our  elaborate  machinery  could  be 
effective  only  if  it  were  coupled  to  some  great 
moral  "prime  mover."  An  internal  reconstruc- 
tion, a  new  fire  of  passion  and  a  new  light  of 


Additional  Contemplations  153 

intelligence,   was   necessary   before   even   our 
meanest  plans  oould  be  developed. 

Let  me  not  be  mismiderstood.  This  is  a 
diagnosis,  not  an  exhortation.  I  have  no  wish 
to  preach.  Nothing  but  a  candid  sociological 
analysis  imposes  upon  me  the  conviction  that, 
after  facing  so  manj^  material  difficulties,  we 
are  now  compelled  to  lift  ourselves  out  of  our 
spiritual  bankruptcy  if  our  civilization  is  not 
entirely  to  go  under.  We  must  lay  down  be- 
fore all  things  a  common  moral  foundation 
which  will  support  in  stable  equilibrium  the  so- 
cial structure  of  a  renovated  society.  Without 
that  foundation,  it  seems  to  me,  there  can  be 
no  adequate  social  structure — and  no  possi- 
bility of  renovation. 

I  do  not  think  my  analysis  has  led  me  astray. 
I  have  sought  to  give  full  weight  to  the 
economic  factors  that  have  entered  into  our 
present  situation.  It  seems  plain  to  me 
that  they  have  conditioned  our  actions  but 
they  have  not  determined  them.  The  de- 
sire for  bread  and  butter  does  not  lead 
men,  living  in  a  world  full  of  food,  to  kill  each 
other;  and  I  do  not  fathom,  accordingly,  how 
a  transformation  of  our  economic  life,  by  itself, 
will  do  away  with  national  and  class  conflicts. 


154    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

unless  at  the  same  time  our  whole  scheme  of 
morality  is  radically  altered  and  fresh  spiritual 
values  are  introduced.  I  have  seen  revolu- 
tionary soldiers  engaged  in  a  purely  military 
struggle  and  I  did  not  see  any  difference  be- 
tween their  behavior  and  that  of  non-revolu- 
tionary soldiers.  There  was  no  difference,  that 
is  to  say,  in  their  methods,  and  there  was  no 
difference  in  the  way  that  their  methods  re- 
acted upon  their  personality.  It  is  as  easy  to 
become  brutalized  and  degenerate  in  fighting 
for  a  good  cause  as  in  fighting  for  a  bad  one. 
The  results  are  determined  by  the  fact  that 
one  must  fight. 

Now  our  common  lack  of  moral  conviction, 
the  reckless  instability  of  our  moral  behavior, 
has  been  perhaps  the  most  overwhelming  char- 
acteristic of  modern  society.  Our  modern 
states,  in  their  attempt  to  foster  and  pre- 
serve a  spurious  "prosperity,"  have  depre- 
ciated all  our  moral  values,  and  have  used  them 
simply  as  the  tools  of  a  governmental  autoc- 
racy. Christianity  has  been  used  deliberately 
to  preserve  the  vested  privileges  of  the  estab- 
lished order.  The  lash  that  drove  the  money- 
changers from  the  temple  has  been  transformed 
into  a  knout  to  keep  the  "rabble"  in  order  so 


Additional  Contemplations  155 

that  the  money-changers,  in  court  and  on  the 
Bourse,  may  continue  to  transact  their  business 
undisturbed.  Art  hkewise  has  become  an  in- 
strument of  political  propaganda.  How 
infamously,  for  example,  did  artists  betray 
their  mission  during  the  war  by  accepting  ser- 
vice in  the  state  and  idealizing  the  gross  facts 
of  the  war  by  posters  of  high  artistic  merit 
that  dealt  with  motherhood  and  inspired  our 
finest  altruistic  instincts!  Mothers  sent  their 
sons  gladly  to  their  death  because  the  state  told 
them,  through  the  artists,  not  that  they  aimed 
to  seize  political  rights  and  concessions  and 
mineral  deposits  in  distant  lands,  but  that  they 
were  simpty  keeping  the  domestic  hearth  in- 
violate. In  the  field  of  ethics  the  same  condi- 
tion was  notorious.  Our  religious  guides  and 
ethical  teachers  bent  their  minds  to  discovering 
"moral"  interpretations  for  the  various  events 
of  the  war.  They  sanctified  the  heroism  of  the 
trenches,  and  under  their  influence  people  were 
exalted,  and  were  morbidly  attracted  to  those 
who  disdained  death.  In  that  atmosphere  it 
was  easy  to  create  the  impression  that  we  were 
participating  in  a  great  enterprise,  and  that 
humanity  (though  not,  of  course,  our  enemy!) 
was  marchinff  forward  into  a  new  world.    The 


156    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

result  of  this  widespread  moral  prostitution  has 
now  become  evident.  It  is  hardly  possible  to 
find  anywhere  in  the  world  a  moral  force  which 
remained  sturdily  independent,  a  force  wliich 
had  not  been  misused  and  corrupted  by  the 
war.  The  last  few  ethical  values  we  had  left 
in  1914 — too  weak  to  oppose  the  tragic  debacle 
of  that  year — even  these  few  values  were  lost 
in  the  maelstrom  of  iron  and  blood.  Without 
ethical  values,  however,  society  cannot  remain 
upright — and  that  is  why  Europe  is  collapsing. 

The  indications  of  this  moral  failure,  with  its 
attendant  likelihood  of  physical  collapse,  are 
now  evident  on  every  hand. 

On  even  a  very  superficial  analysis  of  what 
is  now  going  on  in  Europe  we  can  see  that 
humanity  has  lost,  first  of  all,  faith.  We  do 
not  believe  each  other  any  more,  because  we 
have  so  long  lied  to  each  other.  Hence  the 
spirit  of  to-day  might  be  called  the  spirit  of 
intransigeant  conflicts.  Every  group,  every 
case,  is  persuaded  that  it  is  right,  that  it 
alone  possesses  the  truth,  and  that  therefore  all 
that  is  opposed  to  its  final  principles  has  to  be 
overthrown  and  annihilated.  We  are  intoler- 
ant, all  of  us,  from  the  extreme  Right  to  the 
extreme  Left.     What  does  it  mean,  this  in- 


Additional  Contemplations  157 

tolerance,  translated  into  psychological  terms? 
It  means  that  we  have  lost  one  of  the  most 
powerful  impulses  of  our  human  nature — the 
impulse  toward  solidarity.  Neither  in  fact  nor 
in  theory  do  we  any  longer  believe  in  the  grow- 
ing solidarization  of  our  humanity,  and  ac- 
cordingly we  have  only  illusory  authorities, 
maintained  by  brutal  force  and  "emergency 
acts." 

Solidarity  implies  first  of  all  reconciliation. 
It  means  the  establishment  of  a  common 
ground  and  the  working  out  of  common  ideas. 
Instead  of  this  we  are  witnessing  among  social 
groups  and  political  parties  only  dissensions 
and  "splits."  Those  whose  ideas  differ  slightly 
from  the  ideas  and  principles  of  their  former 
companions,  leave  their  parties,  their  groups, 
and  find  other  catchwords  with  which  to  in- 
fluence the  masses.  The  present-day  Socialist 
movement  is  an  instructive  example  of  this 
process.  Never  have  we  had  so  many  parties 
and  groups.  Is  it  not  strange  that  at  a  time 
of  social  revolution,  when  words  and  speeches 
seek  only  to  impress  one  idea,  the  idea  of  a 
new  unity  and  community — that  at  such  a  time 
we  should  see  the  birth  of  a  new  party  every 
day?    Even  the  International,  which  seemed  to 


^ 


158    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

be  the  ultima  ratio  of  solidarity,  no  longer  ex- 
ists, because  we  have  now  two  Internationals, 
one  at  Berne  and  one  at  Moscow,  and  the 
French  and  the  German  Independent  Social- 
ists are  planning  to  organize  still  another. 

Obviously  we  have  lost  ourselves  among  our 
own  petty  aims  and  ambitions,  at  the  moment 
when  the  influence  of  spirit  is  most  needed. 
That  is  possibly  only  at  a  time  when  the  real 

communitary  basis  of  society  has  been  forgot- 
ten. We  have  now  instead  a  reign  of  social 
egotism,  which  seems  to  me  to  be  the  most  in- 
fluential element  of  our  time.  It  had  grown 
strong  enough  on  the  eve  of  the  war,  but  the 
war  developed  it  and  brought  it  up  to  become 
the  powerful  social  factor  it  is.  This  egotism 
implies  first  of  all  the  annihilation  of  moral 
authority.  We  are  pursuing,  in  our  govern- 
mental institutions,  a  policy  of  self-preserva- 
tion by  old  means,  giving  to  the  most  liberal 
articles  of  our  constitutions  the  most  reaction- 
ary interpretations.  It  is  easy  enough  to 
explain  and  say  that  because  of  the  abnormality 
and  the  unbalanced  condition  of  our  lives  this 
state  of  things  is  due  to  what  may  be  called 
"emergency"  psychology,  but  whatever  name 
we  give  to  the  condition,  it  does  not  change  the 


Additional  Contemplations  159 

actual  state  of  affairs.  This  "emergency"  psy- 
cholog}^  means  merely  mob  psychology,  result- 
ing from  excited,  sensitive  nerves,  which  are 
extremely  responsive  to  the  kind  of  "moral" 
demonstration  that  consists  in  shouting  the 
loudest.  The  middle  classes  of  Europe,  com- 
posed of  those  who  lost  during  the  war  their 
moderate  prosperity  and  became  proletarian- 
ized,  and  of  the  small  capitalists  who  by 
profiteering  became  moderately  wealthy — this 
middle  class  wants  simply  order,  quiet,  rest.  It 
is  satisfied  with  the  fact  that  the  war  is  over 
and  it  does  not  want,  as  it  did  not  want  before 
the  war,  and  does  not  see,  as  it  did  not  see  be- 
fore the  war,  any  other  mode  of  conduct.  The 
middle  classes  of  France,  England,  and  Ger- 
many are  the  controllers  of  Europe  to-day,  and 
Noske  as  well  as  Clemenceau,  and  Clemenceau 
as  well  as  Lloyd  George,  are  the  expression  of 
a  stagnant  marais  of  European  society  which 
is  ready  to  support  any  kind  of  reactionary 
policy  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  about  order 
— their  order.  The  proletarian  masses,  tired 
and  exhausted  by  the  war,  disappointed  and 
discouraged  by  lies  and  deceptions,  must — and 
it  is  inevitable — rely  upon  themselves.  That 
is  why  the  main  feature  of  our  social  struggle 


160    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

in  Europe  to-day  is  not  that  of  a  struggle  for 
a  new  and  different  social  order,  but  a  struggle 
for  political  and  social  power.  That  is  the  idea 
behind  the  "dictatorship  of  the  proletariat" 
in  Russia.  That  explains  the  dictatorial  gov- 
ernmental system  of  Noske.  That  is  why  we 
are  being  furnished  with  forecasts  and  prophe- 
cies of  a  "labor  government"  in  England. 

We  do  not  think  in  social  categories;  we 
think  in  forms  of  governmental  power.  We 
are  witnessing  a  kind  of  race  for  governmental 
power,  and  we  are  betting  on  who  will  finish 
first.  The  idea  of  a  rule  of  power  is  psycho- 
logically and  socially  a  conservative  idea.  It 
implies  a  suppression  of  opposing  forces,  and 
not  a  solidarization  of  them.  A  mass,  a  mob, 
requires  a  hero,  and  it  is  not  necessary  that  the 
hero  be  a  person,  an  individual.  Occasionally 
the  skeleton  of  an  idea  stands  for  the  hero  be- 
fore the  hero  himself  actually  arrives.  The 
hero  of  to-day  is  Power,  and  therein  lies  our 
weakness. 

Through  a  long  period  of  history  we  neg- 
lected all  our  normal  impulses,  and  we  are  now 
paying  the  penalty  of  that  neglect.  So  that, 
practically,  we  no  longer  recognize  any  "ma- 
jority" or  "minority"  or  "votes."    If  the  mi- 


Additional  Contemplations  161 

norlty  is  not  satisfied  it  will  go  on  acting  alone, 
and  to-morrow  perhaps  the  majority  of  to-day 
will  be  the  minority,  because  the  masses  have 
lost  their  equilibrium. 

In  June,  1917,  Trotsky  addressed  a  gather- 
ing of  about  12,000  working  men,  and  could 
scarcely  make  himself  heard  amid  the  hissing 
which  greeted  him.  Four  months  later  he  was 
the  god  of  those  same  working  men,  who  were 
then  hissing  Kerensky  and  all  the  moderate 
Socialists.  Such  a  quick  transformation  of 
spirit  is  due  to  the  nervous  and  emotional  in- 
stability of  the  masses,  who  have  no  time  to  bal- 
last themselves  with  thought  and  who  are  in- 
capable of  analyzing  conditions.  The  distrust, 
the  loss  of  faith,  the  lack  of  moral  authority, 
created  an  atmosphere  of  despair,  which  is  one 
of  the  most  important  elements  in  creating  an 
aspiration  for  power.  In  times  of  despair  we 
do  not  reflect  whether  we  are  right  or  wrong, 
or  whether  it  is  safe  to  undertake  one  thing  or 
another.  At  such  times  all  our  forces  are 
moved  by  the  desire  for  activity.  Only  im- 
mediate, direct  action  can  satisfy.  Accord- 
ingly we  are  able  to  distinguish  in  the  behavior 
of  the  European  masses  two  very  definite  and 
different  kinds  of  mob  psychology.    The  first  is 


162    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

born  of  the  despair  of  the  last  few  years,  and 
of  the  desperate  atmosphere  created  by  the 
growing  reaction  of  the  government  and  of  the 
middle  classes.     Out  of  this  despair  rises  the 
revolutionary   spirit,   a  spirit   of   antagonism 
which  will  admit  no  compromise.     This  leads 
the  masses  to  center  their  efforts  on  getting 
hold  of  the  machinery  of  state.     Socially  in- 
evitable,   and    justifiable,    this    revolutionary 
spirit  develops  along  lines  of  a  mechanistic  con- 
ception of  power,  rule,  dictatorship  and  re- 
venge.   On  the  other  hand  we  have,  as  natural 
by-products  of  the  war,  the  French  poilu,  the 
English  Tommy,  the  German  Feldgrau.  Ideal-' 
ized  during  the  war,  the  common  soldiers  live 
in  an  atmosphere  of  war  psychology  even  after 
their  demobilization.    They  bring  the  militaris- 
tic spirit  of  the  trenches  back  into  the  cities  and 
into  the  homes.    Their  spirit  of  pride  has  been 
artificially  fostered.     They  demand  to  be  re- 
spected as  heroes,  saviours  of  the  country,  and 
they  are  ready  to  suppress  their  own  country- 
men with  the  same  methods  they  lately  sup- 
pressed  and   conquered   their   enemy.      They 
have    no    ideas,    they    are    possessed    by    the 
psychological,  almost  the  zoological  spirit  of 
combat,  of  employing  brute  force  against  the 


Additional  Contemplations  163 

nearest  opposing  rival  or  enemy.  I  cannot  re- 
sist the  temptation  to  paraphrase  a  French 
saying,  "Not  to  know  French  orthography  is  a 
disgrace;  to  know  it  is  no  great  merit."  Not 
to  defend  one's  country  may  be  a  disgrace,  but 
to  serve  it  is  no  great  merit.  Those  who  are 
bent  on  using  force  think  of  nothing  else. 
They  try  to  represent  it  as  the  most  laudable 
work,  and  seek  to  conceal  its  sanguinary  reali- 
ties by  talk  of  "freedom  and  independence." 

Incidentally  I  want  to  say  that  this  is  one 
of  the  worst  results  of  war.  Every  war,  even 
"the  war  to  end  war,"  is  not  only  a  concrete 
crime  because  it  is  a  process  of  killing,  but  it 
is  a  crime  in  itself  because  it  corrupts  our 
minds,  depriving  us  of  the  precious  feeling  for 
the  value  of  humajn  life — and  the  value  of  a 
human  being  jyer  se.  Nothing  is  now  so  dear 
as  freedom — which  does  not  exist — and  noth- 
ing is  now  so  cheap  as  human  life,  because  life 
in  itself  is  worth  nothing  now.  What  alone 
seems  to  have  value  is  my  life. 

The  tragedy  of  our  days  is  that  out  of  the 
graveyards  of  the  war  have  risen  so  many  un- 
solvable  problems  that  it  is  become  impossible 
for  Europe  to  find  an  issue  other  than  in  revo- 
lution, which  means  a  new  and  a  different  kind 


164    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

of  war.  I  am  myself  a  Russian  revolutionist, 
and  I  have  devoted  almost  all  my  conscious 
activities  to  the  revolution.  So  that  I  have, 
perhaps,  a  better  right  than  some  others  to  say 
that  a  revolution  is  the  greatest  of  social  disas- 
ters. Inevitable  as  a  revolution  may  be,  it  is  a 
total  rearrangement  of  social  forces — destruc- 
tive and  bloody.  Wliere  a  rearrangement  can 
be  achieved  without  blood  the  people  will  be 
immeasurably  happier.  And  yet  revolutions 
must  come.  .  .  . 

I  remember  the  last  few  days  before  the 
overthrow  of  the  Tsar,  when  the  business  of  the 
city  of  Petrograd  had  almost  ceased  because 
of  strikes  and  unrest.  A  number  of  people 
came  to  the  radical  leader  of  the  Duma,  Keren- 
sky,  to  ask  his  opinion  about  what  was  happen- 
ing. Nobody  knew  what  to  do,  what  to  say  to 
the  masses,  with  what  slogans  to  appeal  to 
them. 

"Does  it  mean  a  revolution?"  was  the  ques- 
tion. "I  beheve  that  a  revolution  will  come," 
said  Kerensky,  "but  not  now,  not  yet.  We 
have  to  wait  a  much  longer  time  for  that." 

Three  days  later  that  same  man  was  the  soul 
of  the  revolution.  In  spite  of  lack  of  leader- 
ship, in  spite  of  an  abysmal  ignorance  of  the 


Additional  Contemplations  165 

general  conditions,  revolution  came.  A  revolu- 
tion, a  real  revolution,  is  without  an  organized 
army.  It  has  just  such  an  army  as  we  could 
see  in  the  streets  of  Petrograd,  in  1917, — stu- 
dents, workers,  soldiers,  civilians,  young  girls, 
boys,  all  without  any  previous  training,  with- 
out any  knowledge  of  military  science.  They 
did  not  even  know  how  to  kill,  how  to  extin- 
guish human  life.  War,  in  order  to  make  the 
masses  active,  demands  some  specially  invented 
incentive,  slogans  in  most  cases,  a  revolution 
has  no  need  for  dictated  and  suggested  slo- 
gans. A  revolution  dictates  and  suggests  its 
own  slogan.  In  a  regular  army  we  must  de- 
stroy any  individual  consciousness  and  initia- 
tive in  the  brains  of  the  soldier;  a  soldier's 
brain  must  be  a  blank  so  that  he  shall  react  only 
to  orders  from  above.  In  a  revolution  we  are 
helpless  unless  the  masses  possess  a  certain 
amount  of  understanding  of  their  own.  The 
revolutionary  masses  have  their  own  ideas  and 
aspirations,  and  they  must  understand  them. 
It  is  impossible,  therefore,  "to  declare"  a  revo- 
lution. Only  when  it  comes  from  below,  when 
the  lower  strata  of  the  social  formation  become 
active,  only  then  can  a  revolution  arise.  A 
war,  from  the  social  point  of  view,  is  the  result 


166    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

of  a  controversy  between  two  or  more  inter- 
national ambitions.  The  peoples  know  noth- 
ing about  them.  The  peoples  are  but  the  can- 
non fodder.  A  war,  therefore,  must  bring 
about,  a  priori,  a  social  disintegration,  the  basis 
of  which  is  hatred  and  revenge. 

A  revolution  is  always  a  reaction  against 
egoistic  class  oppression,  and  is  a  movement  to- 
wards a  new  solidarity.  Being  the  protest  of  a 
people  it  is  an  appeal  to  a  new  solidarity  and 
justice.  The  bloody  and  immoral  features  of  a 
revolution  are  not  born  in  the  ranks  of  the 
masses,  but  are  created  by  those  who  are  the 
cause  of  the  revolution.  In  short  we  must 
recognize  that  a  revolution  can  only  be  com- 
pared to  an  instinctive  effort  of  self-defense, 
while  a  war  is  a  premeditated  and  planned 
criminal  assault. 

It  is  certainly  to  be  regretted  that  in  the 
twentieth  century  our  civilization  and  social 
order  had  not  in  itself  a  sufficient  moral  spirit 
to  avoid  the  accumulation  of  social  protest  and 
revolution;  that  having  passed  through  his- 
torical periods  of  philosophic  depth  and  relig- 
ious height,  modern  Europe  transformed  all 
her  values  into  tools  and  instruments  of  pos- 
session and  suppression.     Our  revolutions  are 


Additional  Contemplations  167 

thus  more  cruel  and  more  bloody  than  those  of 
the  past.  The  spirit  of  revenge  and  despair 
has  too  deeply  imbued  itself  into  the  hearts  of 
the  peoples.  A  "good  modern  European" 
could,  perhaps,  find  in  the  atrocities  of  the  Rus- 
sian Revolution  one  more  excuse  for  disgust 
with  the  masses,  and  for  a  desire  for  a  benevo- 
lent enlightened  autocracy,  but  he  would  make 
a  mistake — as  many  modern  statesmen  have 
done.  Europe  simply  sees  her  own  fate,  but 
she  does  not  understand  the  meaning  of  events 
because  she  is  accustomed  to  think  in  utilitarian 
terms  of  practice  and  advantages.  A  revolu- 
tion, if  an  ethical  interpretation  of  it  is  neces- 
sary, is  the  most  conspicuous  and  the  most  defi- 
nite demonstration  of  self-sacrifice.  A  people 
educated  in  and  Hving  under  a  certain  order, 
fixed  in  certain  habits,  bearing  on  their  own 
shoulders  the  hea\'y  burden  of  an  historical  tra- 
dition, suddenly  throw  away  this  complex 
inheritance  and  are  willing  to  perish  in  order  to 
bring  about  a  change  in  the  direction  of  prog- 
ress. They  do  not  ask,  "how  much  will  it 
cost?"  They  do  not  measure  what  the  contri- 
butions will  be.  They  simply  go  on  and  fight; 
and  field  and  street  and  palace  are  to  them 
merely  the  theaters  that  provide  the  stage  for 


168    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  acting  of  their  tragedy.  A  war  is  first  of 
all  a  sacrifice  of  human  beings  who  do  not  know 
what  they  are  fighting  for,  and  who  do  not 
want  to  lose  their  lives.  I  expect  that  the 
"good  civilized  European"  will  object  very 
strongly  to  these  terms,  and  will  quote  as 
against  me,  thousands  of  heroic  deeds  and  the 
spirit  of  self-sacrifice  and  magnanimity  which 
was  so  splendidly  manifested  during  the  war. 
When  I  read  of  these  deeds  and  their  fine  spirit 
I  was  profoundly  impressed  by  what  the 
human  spirit  can  achieve  in  battle,  but  later, 
when  I  learned  from  personal  experience  what 
a  trench  means,  what  an  infantry  attack  and 
the  artillery  preparations  for  it  imply,  I  under- 
stood that  all  these  performances  of  heroism 
are  simply  demonstrations  of  what  our  human 
nature  is  capable  of,  and  of  how  it  can  be  mis- 
used. For  in  a  trench  or  on  a  front,  heroism, 
self-sacrifice  and  hatred  of  death  are  alike  arti- 
ficial. They  are  simply  reactions  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  blood  and  fire.  These  reactions  are 
interpreted  in  the  newspapers  which  are  read 
at  peaceful  firesides  in  the  smoke  of  a  good 
cigar,  by  the  readers  who  see  no  difference  be- 
tween the  smoke  of  the  cigar  and  the  smoke  of 
the  field  cannon. 


Additional  Contemplations  169 

I  recall  a  Colonel  of  the  Hussars,  whom  I 
met  in  Budapest  after  the  revolution,  apologiz- 
ing to  me  for  being  my  former  enemy.  He 
said  that  he  loved  the  Russians,  and  I  was 
rather  surprised  at  his  acquaintance  with  the 
works  of  Dostoyevsky  and  Tolstoy,  from  which 
he  quoted  freely.  "Even  when  I  was  on  the 
Galician  front  and  fighting  against  the  Rus- 
sians I  was  not  their  enemy,"  he  said.  "You  do 
not  understand,"  and  I  saw  fiery  gleams  in  his 
eyes,  "what  a  fight  means.  I  remember  one 
cold  snowy  night,  we  rode  on  horseback  to  a 
valley  near  a  little  river.  We  knew  that  in  a 
nearby  forest  were  the  Russian  cavalry,  and 
we  stopped  and  waited.  I  will  never  forget  the 
sensations  we  experienced.  We  were  waiting 
for  our  enemy,  and  our  only  thought  was  that 
we  were  going  to  fight — ^we  were  going  to 
fight.  We  felt  that  we  were  fighting  a  brutal 
Tsar,"  and  he  smiled,  "and  we  felt  that  it  was 
glorious  to  fight  against  him.  But  we  were 
not  fighting  you,  the  Russian  people." 

The  conversation  took  place  in  a  coffee 
house.  I  hurried  to  pay  my  check  and  got 
away.  I  did  not  hate  this  Hussar,  but  I  could 
not  remain  in  his  company.  I  walked  past  one 
of  the  most  wonderful  structures  in  the  world. 


170    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  Elizabeth  bridge  over  the  Danube,  and 
wandered  for  many  hours  among  the  ruined  re- 
mains of  an  old  fortress  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. That  Magyar  Hussar  was  a  real  illus- 
tration of  war  based  upon  that  most  inhuman 
institution — universal  compulsory  conscription 
— when  to  fight  and  to  kill  becomes  an 
ideal. 

I  understood  the  Colonel  very  well.  It  is 
true  that  he  did  not  think  about  the  Russian 
people  when  he  was  fighting,  but  he  did  not 
think  about  the  Tsar  either,  and  he  was  not  a 
hero.  A  human  being,  with  a  human  language, 
he  bore  in  his  nature  the  instincts  of  a  lion  or  a 
tiger.  The  beauty  of  such  heroism  is  perhaps 
less  than  the  beauty  of  the  toreador  who  fights 
a  bull.  War  is  simply  the  opportunity  to  sat- 
isfy the  instinct  to  kill ;  and  our  modern  state, 
instead  of  getting  rid  of  it,  has  simply  brought 
it  to  greater  perfection.  That  is  what  makes 
a  war  different  from  ai  revolution,  and  that  is 
what  makes  a  revolution  a  decisive  answer  to 
war. 

I  wish  to  repeat  that  the  economic  back- 
ground of  our  lives,  of  wars,  and  of  revolutions, 
can  often  become  very  strong  and  very  influ- 
ential motives,  but  our  moral  and  spiritual 


Additional  Contemplations  171 

qualities  also  play  important  roles.  In  spite 
of  class  consciousness,  and  in  spite  of  the  eco- 
nomic interpretation  of  history — or  perhaps  be- 
cause of  it — many  of  our  European  leaders 
failed  to  see  the  real  meaning  of  the  war, 
whether  offensive  or  defensive  matters  little. 
They  missed  understanding  our  ethical  back- 
ground, the  importance  of  moral  elements,  and 
the  value  of  individual  perfection.  As  I  have 
pointed  out,  the  war  was  not  something  excep- 
tional. It  only  demonstrated  more  clearly 
what  elements  were  influential  in  our  civiliza- 
tion. The  general  cry  of  "lack  of  leadership" 
has  to  be  understood  and  heeded.  It  means 
that  the  individual  has  been  killed.  It  means 
that  his  impulses  have  been  annihilated. 

Undoubtedly  we  need  a  regeneration.  We 
must  revise  all  our  social  ideals  and  theories. 
We  have  to  create  not  new  institutions  but  a 
new  social  gospel.  Institutions  are  sometimes 
extemporaneous  things — the  Soviets  for  in- 
stance. Institutions  are  the  acknowledgment 
of  facts  and  the  expressions  of  them,  but  never 
are  they  acts  of  creation.  Therefore  no  league 
of  nations,  no  new  parliaments,  no  divisions  of 
teiTitory,  can  change  modern  Europe.  A  new 
life  and  a  new  religion  must  come  into  Europe, 


172    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

a  religion  which  will  first  of  all  have  for  its 
keystone  the  value  of  an  individual,  per  se,  and 
a  belief  in  society  as  a  solidarized  gathering  of 
individuals.  The  day  of  bloody  contests  for 
power  must  end. 


CHAPTER  VII 


LIGHTS    AND    SHADOWS 


The  Russian  Revolution  and  the  failure  of 
the  Russian  intellectual  elements  have  precipi- 
tated new  political  forces  with  new  ideals, 
which  are  known  under  the  name  of  Bolshe- 
vism. It  is  necessary  that  we  have  a  clear 
understanding  of  this  term,  Bolshevism,  since 
because  it  is  being  used  with  many  and  varied 
meanings,  often  false  and  misleading. 

On  the  steamer  which  brought  me  to  the 
United  States,  I  became  acquainted  with  an 
American  gentleman  who  was  in  a  somewhat 
important  political  position  in  his  country.  He 
was  just  then  returning  from  the  Peace  Con- 
ference and  London  with  an  accumulated  mass 
of  information  and  facts.  He  seemed  eagerly 
interested  to  meet  a  Russian,  and  especially  a 
Russian  who  had  been  connected  with  the  first 
revolutionary  government.  We  conversed  to- 
gether for  several  hours  on  international  poli- 

173 


174    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

tics,  and  I  confess,  I  found  it  difficult  to  listen 
to  some  of  the  silly  statements  he  made — silly, 
because  he  was  but  repeating  what  he  had  read 
in  the  jingo  newspapers  of  Paris  and  London. 
And  he  quoted  then  from  a  notebook  in  which 
he  had  carefully  transcribed  them.  So  extraor- 
dinary were  those  tales  and  fanciful  facts  of 
Russia  that  they  could  be  created  only  by  a 
terrified  mob.  To  most  of  his  "incontrovertible 
facts"  I  replied  by  informing  him  that  at  one 
time  it  was  the  general  belief  among  Euro- 
peans, and  even  among  a  few  scholars  who  it 
might  be  expected  would  know  better,  that  big 
white  bears  walked  freely  and  unmolested 
along  the  streets  of  Petrograd,  the  capital  of 
this  strange  country,  and  that  during  the  win- 
ter months  railroad  trains  passed  under  tun- 
nels of  snow.  I  tried  to  show  him  how  absurd 
were  the  general  notions  entertained  by  the 
rest  of  Europe  about  Russia  and  its  people. 
We  kept  up  our  conversation  for  some  hours, 
during  which  time  we  discussed  Bolshevism 
both  as  a  political  factor  and  as  a  political 
ideal.  At  the  end  of  our  talk  the  American 
expressed  himself  as  being  highly  pleased  and 
then,  in  the  very  act  of  shaking  my  hand, 
in  parting,  he  asked,  with  a  bright  smile,  "May 


Lights  and  Shadows  175 

I  ask  you,  practically,  what  Bolshevism 
means?"  I  could  not  help  laughing,  and  I  an- 
swered, "You  should  have  begun  with  that 
question.  It  is  now  somewhat  too  late.  You 
have  been  too  well  informed  by  Paris  and 
London." 

Russian  Socialists  are  not  now  what  they 
were  years  ago,  the  Russian  Social  Democrats 
who  were  opposed  to  the  slow  political  tactics  of 
the  orthodox  Marxians  of  Germany,  were  in 
the  majoritj'-  among  Russian  Socialists.  They 
split  the  party  and  seceding  from  the  minority, 
or  the  Mensheviks,  called  themselves  Bolshe- 
viks, or  the  majority.  They  stood  simply  for 
a  more  active  and  more  aggressive  attitude 
against  Tsarism,  and  cooperated  mostly  with 
the  Russian  Social  Revolutionists  who  formed 
the  Left  Wing  of  the  Russian  Socialist  Party. 

During  the  Russian  Revolution  the  methods 
of  the  Bolsheviks  began  to  be  called  Bolshe- 
vism, but  they  very  soon  gave  up  this  name 
and  called  themselves  Communists.  To-day 
the  word  Bolshevism  is  used  in  five  different 
senses.  First,  there  is  the  popular  use,  which 
may  be  said  to  mean  murder,  rapine,  and  atroc- 
ity. Second,  it  is  used  as  a  synonym  for  Soviet- 
ism  as  represented  by  the  present  Russian 


176    TJie  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

government;  a  new  political  institution  which 
is  sometimes  explained,  wrongly  it  seems  to 
me,  by  the  expression,  "the  dictatorship  of  the 
proletariat."  Third,  it  stands  for  Communism, 
which  is  not  a  new  political  idea,  but  which  is  a 
combination  of  the  final  goals  of  the  Socialist 
ideal  with  those  of  Anarchists  and  Syndicalists. 
Fourth,  by  Bolshevism  is  often  meant  a  pro- 
testing spirit.  Any  man,  dissatisfied  with  his 
country's  government,  who  criticizes  it  from 
the  point  of  view  of  so-called  Progressivism,  is 
called  a  Bolshevist.  Fifth,  it  is  applied  to  all 
who  attempt  to  employ  liberal  ideas  to  better 
conditions  of  the  times,  and  who  attempt  a  dis- 
interested analysis  of  the  unhappy  experiences 
of  the  war.  These  last  are  sometimes  termed 
*'Pro-Germans."  There  are  many  other  mean- 
ings given  to  the  word,  as  occasion  or  circum- 
stances demand,  but  the  above  five  are  most 
often  employed. 

The  most  important  thing,  however,  is  to 
know  that  Bolshevism  or  Communism  seems  to 
be  a  new  political  theory  with  a  new  political 
practice.  In  the  final  analysis  of  Bolshevist 
aims  we  see  no  specifically  new  element.  Al- 
most all  Socialists  would  agree  with  the  pur- 
pose of  Bolshevistic  ideals.    It  is  not  here  that 


Lights  and  Shadows  177 

we  find  the  point  of  divergence.    That  is  found 
when  we  are  met  with  the  Bolshevist  assertion 
that  Europe  is  ripe  economically  for  the  imme- 
diate reahzation  of  the  principles  of  Socialism. 
A  discussion  on  that  matter  seems  to  me  to  be 
futile.    Discussions  are  fruitful  and  proper  be- 
fore we  begin  to  act.    Thej^  help  us  then  to  see 
our  way  more  clearly.     And  after  we  have 
acted  discussions  enable  us  only  to  find  the 
cause  for  our  success  or  failure.     But  at  the 
moment  when  the  machinery  of  political  and 
social  ends  is  set  in  motion  discussions  are  a 
hindrance  rather  than  a  help.    The  knowledge 
possessed  by  the  masses  becomes  too  strong  and 
too  vital  a  force,  the  impetus  of  which  cannot  be 
stopped  either  by  theorizing  or  hatred.     It  is 
for  this  reason  that  the  Bolshevists  have  put 
out  of  their  consideration  the  question  as  to 
the  readiness  of  Europe  for  the  estabhshment 
of  a  Socialist  regime.     Whether  Europe  be 
ripe  for  Socialism  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  it  is 
ripe  enough,  or  rotten  enough,  to  need  a  new 
social  order.     So  that  the  Bolsheviki,  or  the 
Russian  Socialists  are  not  now  what  they  were 
at  the  beginning  of  their  activities.    They  have 
had  to  overcome  difficulties  within  themselves, 
and  they  have  learned  lessons  from  the  two 


178    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

years  of  governmental  practice.  These  expe- 
riences have  taught  them  to  be  less  definite  in 
their  statements,  so  that  they  no  longer  talk  of 
pure  Socialism  but  of  a  new  social  order.  And 
yet,  as  we  see  it,  this  cannot  be  considered  as 
the  main  cause  for  the  desperate  sti*uggle  that 
is  now  taking  place  between  the  old  Europe 
and  the  new  Russia.  The  cause  lies  deeper,  in 
the  new  philosophy  of  Bolshevism  itself.  I  say 
new  philosophy  because  it  is  not  only  new  to 
the  world  outside  Russia,  but  it  is  new  to  the 
Communist  leaders  of  Russia  themselves.  It  is 
the  spontaneous  generation  in  an  atmosphere 
of  revolution  thought  and  struggle. 

The  theorists  of  Russian  Communism  im- 
parted two  new  elements,  that  of  a  permanent 
revolution  and  that  of  the  social  order.  At  the 
time  of  the  split  in  the  Russian  Social  Demo- 
cratic Party  to  which  I  have  referred,  the  So- 
cialist struggle  was  very  far  from  being  Bolshe- 
vik. The  Bolsheviki  were  between  the  two 
revolutionary  groups,  the  Right  Wing  Social- 
ists, or  Mensheviki,  and  the  Left  Wing  radical 
revolutionists  who  employed  terror  as  a  means 
for  the  overthrow  of  aristocracy.  The  Bolshe- 
viki rejected  the  use  of  the  terror  method.  As 
pure  Marxians  they  placed  little  value  on  the 


Lights  and  Shadows  179 

individual  in  the  social  evolution,  and  they 
cared  less  as  to  whether  one  reactionary  more 
was  killed  by  terroristic  groups.  When,  in 
1917,  Lenin  arrived  in  Russia,  he  entertained 
the  idea  of  a  united  Socialist  party,  with  no 
division  between  right  and  left  wings,  or  Men- 
shevists  and  Revolutionaries.  And  it  is  a  mat- 
ter of  grave  doubt  if  he  had,  at  any  time,  any 
conception  of  Sovietism.  If  he  had  he  kept  it 
very  secret.  He  may  have  thought  of  it  after 
beholding  the  despair  and  distrust  within  the 
mass  of  Russian  revolutionaries;  but  that  also 
is  to  be  doubted.  Under  Kerensky,  however, 
the  idea  of  a  constituent  assembly,  the  rejection 
of  terror,  the  emergency  laws,  the  abolition  of 
capital  punishment,  the  doctrine  of  pacifism 
were  the  main  planks  in  the  Bolshe^^st  plat- 
form, and  the  main  causes  for  the  success  and 
victory  of  the  Bolsheviki. 

It  was  only  shortly  before  Kerensky's  dovni- 
f all  that  Lunacharsky  and  a  few  minor  leaders 
of  the  Bolshevist  party  began  to  talk  of  a  per- 
manent revolution.  It  was  when  the  Con- 
stituent Assembly  had  failed  to  vote  for  an 
immediate  peace  that  Lenin  gave  expression 
to  the  idea  of  the  dictatorship  of  the  proletariat, 
through    the    dictatorial    Soviets.      He    had 


180    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

probably  thought  previously  that  a  mixed  rep- 
resentation of  all  the  economic  classes  (Con- 
stituent Assembly)  could  exist  as  a  regulating 
body,  provided  the  political  and  social  com- 
batants and  the  officials  of  the  Soviets  were 
given  constitutional  rights.  But  the  Constitu- 
ent Assembly  rejected  the  Soviets,  and  Lenin 
dissolved  it.  It  was  after  this  dissolution  that 
the  Soviets  were  established  as  a  new  form  of 
a  new  state,  and  it  then  became  evident  what 
was  in  the  minds  of  the  leaders  of  this  new  revo- 
lution. 

As  I  understand  the  doctrine  of  Sovietism, 
if  it  can  be  called  a  doctrine,  it  holds  two  fun- 
damental ideas.  First,  the  employment  of  the 
tactics  and  methods  of  the  Real-politih  of 
modern  Europe;  and,  second,  engaging  in 
revolution  for  the  abolition  of  old  systems  and 
the  destruction  of  old  people,  but  in  revolution 
as  a  permanent  state  of  things.  By  this  means, 
through  many  changes  and  a  long  time,  the 
right  end  could  be  attained. 

Real-politik,  as  has  been  amply  illustrated 
in  the  events  of  the  last  few  j^^ears,  is  putting 
into  practice  the  maxims  practiced  by  Machia- 
velli  in  his  "The  Prince"  and  so  subtly  em- 
ployed by  politicians  and  statesmen  since  the 


Lights  and  Shadows  181 

time  of  the  French  Revolution.  To  think  of 
realizing  good,  happiness  and  justice  by  means 
of  ruthless  force  consistently  applied  is,  to  my 
mind,  a  most  unhappy  way  of  bringing  about 
the  world's  welfare.  As  I  have  already  said, 
to  lay  more  importance  on  the  state  than  on 
society,  to  emphasize  political  force  over  politi- 
cal cooperation,  to  aim  at  utilitarianism  instead 
of  justice,  must  inevitably  produce  such  a  col- 
lapse as  we  have  just  witnessed  in  the  world — 
a  political,  social  and  moral  collapse.  And, 
finally,  it  is  impossible,  by  these  means,  to 
develop  a  new  life. 

The  questions  arise,  naturally,  are  the  Bol- 
shevik! guilty  in  using  these  old  methods,  or  is 
the  trouble  in  the  conditions  in  which  they  find 
themselves  ?  But  these  questions  are  at  bottom 
merely  matters  for  political  speculation.  I  am 
interested  in  putting  them  merely  as  a  theorist 
of  political  practice.  Many  ardent  advocates 
for  these  methods  may  even  cite  Christ  as  an 
example,  since  He  whipped  the  money-chang- 
ers out  of  the  Temple  in  Jerusalem.  But  if 
acts  of  this  nature  had  been  habitual  with 
Christ,  we  should,  probably,  know  Him  to-day 
as  a  political  agitator  or,  at  best,  as  a  Jewish 
political  thinker  anxious  for  the  welfare  of 


182    The  Passing  of  tlie  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  Jewish  state  at  a  time  when  it  was  sinking 
morally  and  socially  under  the  yoke  of  Roman 
rule.  The  light  that  has  come  to  us  through 
two  thousand  years  is  not  from  the  Temple  but 
from  Calvary. 

It  may  be  argued,  by  way  of  objection  to  my 
statements,  that  violence  is  inevitable  on  cer- 
tain occasions  and  I  will  agree  that  it  may  be 
necessary  at  certain  moments.  But  it  never 
can  be  necessary  over  periods,  for  that  would 
mean  not  the  establishment  of  a  social  system, 
but  continual  reactions  making  such  an  estab- 
lishment impossible.  The  difference  between 
the  violence  of  revolution  and  the  violence 
which  a  revolution  overthrows  is  that  the  old 
violence  is  a  system,  while  the  new  is  a  spon- 
taneous and  momentary  reaction.  There 
would  be  no  difference  if  the  new  violence  lost 
its  character  as  a  spontaneous  and  immediately 
necessary  act.  It  may  also  be  argued  that  his- 
tory demonstrates  the  success  of  the  continuous 
use  of  old  methods  and  that  progress  is 
achieved  by  their  means.  To  that  I  can  only 
answer  in  the  words  of  Hegel,  who,  when  his 
students  told  him  that  facts  did  not  quite  fit  in 
with  his  theories,  said:  "So  much  the  worse  for 
the  facts."    Still,  it  would  be  possible  to  defeat 


Lights  and  Shadows  183 

this   revolutionary   Machiavellianism   so   well 
known  to  us  since  the  sixteenth  century,  if  the 
other  element  of  the  Communist  doctrine  were 
not   involved,    namely,   that   of  a   permanent 
revolution.     The  idea  of  a  permanent  revolu- 
tion is  verv  little  known  outside  Russia,  and  in 
Russia  itself  it  was  temporarily  discarded  be- 
cause of  international  complications  and  for- 
eign intervention  which  militarized  the  nation. 
So  much   for  philosophic   Bolshevism   and 
Communism  as  a  political  and  social  method. 
It  is  well  known  that  the  Bolshevists  at  first 
were  not  in  the  majority  either  in  the  Soviets 
or  in  their  unions.     They  had  to  invent  some 
means  by  which  they  could  obtain  a  majority. 
To  this  end  Trotzky  and  his  followers  promul- 
gated a  new  fundamental  principle.    Asserting 
that  the  old  principle  of  electing  parliamentary 
representatives  for  a  definite  term  was  defunct, 
they  laid  it  down  that  elections  should  take 
place  whenever  and  as  often  as  the  mind  of 
the  people  changed.    Every  district,  every  so- 
cial unit,  and  every  organization  may  recall  at 
will  their  representative  and  elect  and  send  a 
new  representation.     This  principle  made  it 
possible  for  them  to  bring  about  by-elections 
in  many  parts  of  Russia  as  soon  as  the  people 


184    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

there  had  become  sufficiently  Bolshevikized.  I 
can  see  no  special  objection  to  this  principle, 
but  at  the  time  it  was  put  into  practice  it  was 

highly  indicative  of  the  main  character  of 
Bolshevist  idea  and  methods.  The  Bolshevists 
have  an  almost  religious,  almost  frantic  faith  in 
the  masses  as  such.  Dynamic  masses  are  their 
ideal.  But  they  overlooked,  and  still  overlook 
the  fact  that  the  masses,  even  the  self-conscious 
masses,  are  often  transformed  into  mobs,  and 
the  dynamic  power  of  a  mob  may  scarcely  be 
reasoned  with. 

I  have  not  invented  the  terminology,!  al- 
though I  confess  it  sounds  very  disturbing.  It 
is  so  liable  to  misuse  by  the  able  opponents  of 
social  progress.  But  the  terminology  seems  to 
me  to  express  clearly  and  accurately  the  condi- 
tions as  they  exist.    It  was  invented  by  one  of 

the  fathers  of  Russian  Socialism,  M.  K. 
Mikhailovsky,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  the 

ablest  exposition  of  the  philosophy  of  revolu- 
tionary Socialism.  He  is  an  exponent  of 
the  biological  theory  of  social  development. 
"When  I  ask,"  he  said,  "how  I  am  to  trans- 
form a  mob  into  a  society,  biology  answers  me 
by  tracing  the  development  of  the  herd  into  a 
mob."     "I  cannot  call  them  people,"  he  once 


Lights  and  Shadows  18.5 

said,  "the  mob  which  will  rush  into  my  room 
and  tear  down  the  portrait  of  Belinsky  (the 
famous  Russian  writer)  and  break  the  bust  of 
Necrassof"  (the  Russian  radical  poet). 

The  fallacy  in  the  Bolshevist  reasoning  lies 
in  including  people  as  well  as  mob  in  the  term 
"masses."  The  blind  faith  in  the  "masses"  is 
a  silent  but  potent  indication  that  they  accept 
the  crowd  and  the  crowd  psychology  as  the 
most  justifiable  factors  in  social  life.  Such  an 
acceptance  implies  the  further  acceptance  of 
two  very  dangerous  factors.  The  first  is  that 
revolution  is  a  blow,  a  moment  of  spontaneous 
destruction.  Immediately  following  this  blow 
there  arises  the  necessity  for  stabilizing  the  so- 
cial forces,  for  a  constructive  life.  Now  it  is 
very  difficult  to  know  when  the  elements  of 
construction  begin  under  such  conditions. 
The)^  certainly  were  not  present  on  the  down- 
fall of  the  Tsar  and  the  establishment  of  a 
political  democracy,  for  then  the  real  destruc- 
tive work  began.  I  take  it  that  the  work  of 
construction  must  begin,  not  when  we  have 
reached  a  point  beyond  which  we  may  not  go, 
but  when  we  have  completely  changed  the  so- 
cial element.  As  soon  as  the  old  codes,  as  a 
system,  are  done  with  we  must  give  up  destroy- 


186    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

ing  and  turn  to  constructing.  For  this  pur- 
pose we  must  gather  all  our  intellectual  forces, 
relying  on  the  masses  to  help  us,  but  not  being 
guided  by  them.  So  that  when  a  revolution 
puts  power  into  the  hands  of  a  group  or  a 
class,  even  dictatorial  power,  we  must  immedi- 
ately begin  to  solidarize  the  social  forces.  The 
Communist  theory  omits  the  necessity  for  this 
solidarization,  and,  therefore,  admits  of  no  com- 
promise or  cooperation.  It  creates  fundamen- 
tal principles  of  a  rule  by  a  minority.  Gov- 
ernment by  a  minority  is  dangerous,  not  be- 
cause it  is  opposed  to  the  traditional  idea  of 
democracy  and  the  traditional  worship  of  the 
majority,  but  because  such  government  neces- 
sitates the  employment  of  continuous  violent 
methods  and  maintaining  continuously,  in  the 
minds  of  the  masses,  a  consciousness  of  danger 
and  the  necessity  for  destruction.  And  that  is 
the  second  dangerous  factor.  Under  such  a 
condition  the  masses  are  permanently  mobs, 
able  only  to  hate,  to  fight  and  to  destroy. 

Every  revolution  is  an  extraordinary  means 
of  education.  A  people  that  has  accomplished 
the  overthrow  of  the  older  experiences  a  sense 
of  great  relief.  They  realize  that  they  have 
broken  the  shackle  which  bound  them  and  a 


Lights  and  Shadows  187 

communal,  brotherly  enthusiasm  takes  posses- 
sion both  of  the  masses  and  the  crowds.  I  re- 
member well  the  strange  kindness  and  tender- 
ness evinced  by  the  people  of  Petrograd  during 
the  first  weeks  of  the  revolution,  and  especially 
after  the  Tsar  was  arrested.  I  saw  not  a  sign 
of  animosity  or  distrust.  All  were  eager  to 
show  affection  and  faith  in  each  other,  to  help 
each  other,  to  cooperate  for  the  common  weal. 
I  can  never  forget  the  young  Russian  student, 
a  girl  of  about  nineteen  years  of  age.  She  was 
engaged  in  work  for  the  Petrograd  Council  of 
Workmen  and  Soldiers  and  in  distributing 
bread  and  soup  to  the  people  who  crowded  the 
palace  of  Taurida  for  days  and  nights.  I  saw 
her  one  day  looking  with  a  happy  smile  at  a 
soldier,  who  had  fallen  asleep  while  standing  on 
guard  in  the  palace.  I  greeted  her.  "Is  it  not 
true,  comrade,"  she  asked  me,  "that  it  is  worth 
while  to  die  now?  People  are  happy  and  free. 
Oh,  I  en\y  those  who  have  fallen !" 

A  revolution  is  a  marvelous  education  so 
long  as  it  remains  as  an  act,  an  effort ;  but  un- 
less it  is  permanently  inspired  by  the  spirit  of 
progress,  it  will  breed  permanent  hatred.  De- 
voted as  I  was  to  the  Russian  Revolution,  I 
could  not  but  feel,  when  I  saw  the  Russian  sol- 


188    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

diers  and  workmen  who  had  not  yet  become 
organized  into  a  regular  Red  army,  taking  the 
city  of  Kief  in  January,  1918,  that  a  very  ten- 
der and  beautiful  tie  had  been  broken  between 
me  and  the  masses.  These  soldiers  and  work- 
men were  not  thinking  of  the  revolution.  They 
were  moved  only  by  a  passion  for  victory. 
They  were  not  looking  for  comrades  or 
friends ;  they  saw  only  enemies  and  sought  only 
for  revenge.  They  were  filled  with  the  lust  to 
kill.  It  was  the  spirit  of  war  rampant  among 
them,  the  spirit  that  always  is  the  same  and 
that  is  always  abominable.  This  occurred  dur- 
ing the  dark  period  of  the  revolution,  the  pe- 
riod of  Bolshevist  terror.  I  do  not  think  that 
the  leaders  alone  are  to  be  blamed  for  this. 
Many  different  factors  brought  us  to  the  state 
of  despair,  but  I  do  think  that  the  new  Bolshe- 
vist doctrines  combined  with  the  old  methods 
were  largely  responsible.  That  period  has 
apparently  passed — I  hope  forever.  The 
Bolshevists  have  realized  their  dreadful 
blunder. 

The  iron  logic  of  history  demands  at  times 
an  iron  and  bloody  sacrifice,  and  in  the  day 
when  the  Bolshevists  came  into  power,  and 
when  other  political  parties  without  armies  and 


Lights  and  Shadows  189 

without  masses  and  adherents  began  their  mis- 
taken fight  against  Lenin  and  Trotzky,  on  that 
day  it  was  too  late  to  prevent  the  terrible  ex- 
periences through  which  Russia  has  had  to  pass 
during  the  last  three  years.  The  iron  logic  of 
history  brought  no  new  visions  to  the  minds  of 
the  old  theorist  dialecticians,  and,  obedient  to 
traditional  doctrines,  they  were  as  unable  to  see 
the  way  for  reconciliation  as  was  the  govern- 
ment of  Lenin  and  Trotzky  to  get  rid  of  the 
system  of  blood  and  iron.  But  there  was  a 
time  when  it  would  not  have  been  too  late ;  but 
then  the  Bolshevist  leaders  were  wanting  in 
comprehension,  as  were  their  political  oppon- 
ents who  had  lost  their  political  status. 

Shortly  after  Korniloff' s  futile  attempt  at 
rebelhon  in  September,  1917,  many  of  the  mod- 
erate Socialists  began  to  see  clearly  that  there 
could  be  no  happy  issue  by  cooperating  with 
the  insincere  and  hesitating  and  unorganized 
doctrinaire  Russian  bourgeoisie.  Men  like  B. 
Bogdanoff,  the  first  secretary  of  the  First  Pet- 
trograd  Council,  who  was  utterly  pro-war  and 
pro- Ally,  changed  their  minds  and  insisted  on 
the  formation  of  a  Socialist  government  with- 
out representatives  from  the  bourgeoisie.  The 
well-known  follower  of  Plehkanoff,  N.  Zshor- 


190    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

denia,  also  a  j)ro-war  and  pro-Ally  man,  a  So- 
cialist of  the  most  moderate  revisionist  branch, 
took  a  decisive  stand  against  any  coalition  with 
the  bourgeoisie,  and  advocated  a  uniform  So- 
cialist government  without  Bolshevist  repre- 
sentatives. Kerensky  found  himself  between 
two  fires.  He,  probably,  realized  that  his  ro- 
mantic aspiration  for  national  unity  was  very 
far  from  becoming  realized.  I  remember  his 
desperate  remark,  one  day  in  September,  "I  do 
not  care  who  assumes  power,  Milyukoff  or 
Lenin,  provided  .  .  ."  But  he  did  not  com- 
plete the  sentence.  He  saw  that  Russia  was 
collapsing  politically  and  economically.  He 
knew  better  than  did  anyone  else  in  Russia 
that  the  Allies  would  never  come  to  their  aid, 
and  he  feared  a  reaction  and  the  restoration  of 
the  Tsar  which  would  assuredly  take  place  with 
a  victorious  Germany.  And  at  that  time  Ger- 
many was  very  powerful.  At  a  secret  confer- 
ence of  the  Provisional  Government,  Teres- 
chenko,  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs, 
reported  that  the  Allied  armies  would  be  ready 
for  a  decisive  attack  in  June,  1918.  It  was, 
therefore,  evident  to  Kerensky,  that  he  would 
have  to  wait  for  another  year,  and  something 
had  to  be  done  at  once  for  consolidating  the 


Lights  and  Shadows  191 

national  forces,  and  he  would  then  be  ready  to 
rely  on  the  Left  were  the  Right  to  betray  the 
nation. 

But  just  at  this  juncture  the  real  nature  and 
purpose  of  the  Bolshevist  leaders  became  clear. 
They  saw  nothing  but  the  acquisition  of  power. 
It  was,  I  must  repeat,  the  result  or  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  general  mind  of  the  masses  in  whom 
they  believed  blindly,  for  in  their  despair  they 
had  but  one  thought — to  gain  power. 

In  September,  1917,  Skobieleff,  the  Minis- 
ter of  Labor,  related  to  me  a  conversation  he 
had  had  with  Trotzky,  his  old  teacher,  when  he 
met  for  the  first  time  after  many  years  as  a 
political  opponent.  During  his  conversation 
Skobieleff  proposed,  not  quite  oflicially,  that  a 
Socialist  government  should  be  established 
from  which  the  bourgeoisie  were  to  be  ex- 
cluded, and  which  should  be  responsible  to  the 
Soviets  until  the  Constituent  Assembly  con- 
vened. What  portfolios,  he  asked  Trotzky, 
would  the  Bolsheviki  like  to  dispose  of? 
"None,"  answered  Trotzky.  "Why?"  "You 
will  have  to  establish  the  Socialist  Government 
from  among  your  own  parties."  "Will  you 
support  us  then?"  asked  Skobieleff.  "We  shall 
see,"  was  the  reply.    "What  will  be  your  atti- 


192    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

tude  in  the  meantime?"  "We  will  watch  and 
criticize  you." 

It  was  found  impossible  either  for  the  Social 
Revolutionists  party,  which  existed  only  in 
name,  or  the  Mensheviki  to  organize  a  govern- 
ment. They  were  placed  between  the  terrible 
fires  of  the  Russian  bourgeoisie  in  alliance  with 
the  Franco-English  imperialism  on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  other,  with  the  desperate 
masses,  tired  of  war,  famishing  with  hunger, 
disorganized  economically  and  without  politi- 
cal stability.  The  great  blunder  of  the  Bolshe- 
viki  was  identifying  exceptional  governmental 
power  with  the  social  cause.  It  was  this  blun- 
der which  led  inevitably  to  bloody  and  terrible 
consequences. 

I  cannot  help  speculating  as  to  what  would 
have  happened  had  these  parties  come  to  an 
agreement  at  that  time.   In  the  first  place,  we 

should  probably  have  had  another  Brest- 
Litovsk.  I  mean  a  Brest-Litovsk  for  which 
Russia  would  never  have  been  blamed  by  the 
Allies  and  Russia  would  not  then  have  been 
accused  of  being  a  traitor,  and  the  Allies  would 
not  have  had  the  powerful  slogan  for  their 
propaganda.  Russia's  aspiration  for  freedom 
would  have  been  made  clear  before  the  world 


Lights  and  Shadows  193 

as  a  genuine  natural  desire,  and  no  one  would 
have  said,  as  many  did  say,  that  a  small  group, 
representing  the  will  of  the  minority,  had  "be- 
trayed the  Allied  democracies"  by  making 
peace  with  Germany.  As  it  is  the  Allied  na- 
tions have  most  skilfully  used  Lenin's  inter- 
national policy,  not  only  against  Bolshevism, 
but  against  the  Russian  nation  itself. 

I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  given  the  har- 
mony between  the  parties,  before  a  Brest- 
Litovsk  treaty  could  or  would  have  been 
signed,  the  Allied  governments  would  have 
come  to  an  agreement  with  Russia  in  1917, 
when  it  was  not  evident  that  Germany  would 
be  defeated  and  when  they  still  feared  her. 
The  definite  and  energetic  democratic  interna- 
tional program  as  formulated  by  Russia  would 
have  had  more  influence  than  the  written  and 
spoken  but  unaccomplished  program  of  Presi- 
dent Wilson  or  even  the  armies  and  airplanes 
on  the  Western  front. 

Had  President  Wilson  been  supported  by  a 
united  Socialist  Russia  sitting  at  the  same 
table,  I  cannot  imagine  him  failing  at  Ver- 
sailles. Not  one  of  the  Allies  would  then  have 
been  in  a  position  to  accuse  Russia  of  being  a 
traitor  or  seeking  only  her  own  advantages. 


194    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

In  France  and  in  England  the  masses  would 
inevitably  have  been  with  Russia,  and  the 
American  delegates  eventually  would  have 
sided  with  her.  Then,  perhaps,  neither  Clem- 
enceau  nor  Lloyd  George  would  have  had  the 
backing  of  his  country. 

Of  course,  all  this  is  mere  speculation.  His- 
tory, and  especially  history  of  a  revolutionary 
age,  has  its  own  logic  and  will.  At  such  times 
people  are  thinking  only  their  own  thoughts 
and  are  guided  by  principles  developed  over  a 
long  period  of  years.  These  thoughts  and 
principles  they  are  unable  to  set  aside  at  once, 
more  particularly  in  a  time  of  such  stress  as  a 
revolution.  It  is  Aot,  therefore,  to  be  wondered 
at  that  few  could  see  clearly  at  that  time.  The 
Cadets  wanted  power  and  could  not  get  it,  but 
they  refused  to  give  up  their  old  principles. 
The  moderate  Socialists  did  not  want  power 
but  were  unable  to  get  rid  of  it,  and  again  be- 
cause of  their  devotion  to  scholastic  principles. 
The  natural  outcome  of  this  state  of  things  was 
the  Bolsheviki,  as  they  came,  as  they  stood,  and 
as  they  remain  to-day.  Without  Russia  the 
victories  of  the  Allies  became  conquests.  With- 
out Russia,  President  Wilson's  pronouncement 
that  the  war  was  to  be  a  war  of  neither  victory 


LigJits  and  Shadows  195 

nor  defeat,  remained  but  words.  As  it  is,  the 
world  is  suffering  under  the  dancing  heels  of 
the  victors,  and  is  listening  to  the  cries  of  the 
suffering  defeated.  Without  Russia  as  a  true 
revolutionaiy  preacher  of  sincere  democratic 
ideals,  victory  has  succeeded  only  in  frightening 
the  blind  mind  of  public  opinion  and  in  arrest- 
ing the  revolutionary  spirit  on  all  sides.  This 
victorious  war,  therefore,  like  every  other  vic- 
torious war,  has  brought  political  and  social 
reaction,  and  Bolshevism  is  but  a  factor  in- 
creasing the  intensity  of  the  reaction.  The 
reaction  is,  as  always,  blind  and  suffers  from 
the  bias  of  state  prestige  and  state  power ;  but 
had  the  Russian  leaders  adopted  a  cooperating 
policy  among  themselves,  this  reactionary 
debauch  in  which  victorious  Europe  is  now 
mdulsrino;  would  have  been  far  less  acute  and 
desperate. 

J  am  not  asserting  that  the  policy  of  the  Bol- 
sheviki  as  a  governmental  group  was  either 
right  or  wrong,  nor  do  I  impugn  their  inter- 
national tactics.  WTien  I  speak  of  the  Bolshe- 
viki  or  Bolshevism  I  have  in  mind  always  a 
political  party  embodying  the  philosophy  of 
power,  with  its  aspiration  for  power  and  its 
fallacy  in  believing  that  any  program  can  be 


196    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

put  into  effect,  by  controlling  the  governmen- 
tal machine.  It  is  this  Bolshevism  with  its 
extremism  which  was  the  main  cause  of  the 
many  difficulties  within  the  Russian  political 
parties  and  the  source  of  complications.  But 
from  the  day  the  Bolsheviki  came  into  power 
and  Bolshevism  ceased  to  be  a  mere  aspiration 
and  became  an  influence  and  not  a  speculation, 
from  that  day  there  was  no  possibility  to  stop 
the  further  development  of  Russian  events. 

Despite  its  many  theoretic  and  psychologi- 
cal defects,  it  may  still  be  said  that  the  histori- 
cal value  of  Bolshevism  lies  in  the  fact 
that  it  has  demonstrated  clearly  the  fact 
that  the  political  democracy  of  which  mod- 
ern Europe  is  so  proud  does  in  no  sense 
include  a  social  democracy.  It  has  brought  to 
light  also  the  further  fact  that  the  upheaval 
and  eruption  of  these  late  years  were  the  con- 
sequences of  the  reactionary  background  of 
the  last  years  of  the  nineteenth  and  the  early 
twentieth  centuries.  These  consequences  had 
to  come  no  matter  at  what  cost;  and  Lenin, 
the  real  spirit  of  the  Russia  of  the  last  two 
years,  brought  them  to  a  head. 

The  future  historian  may,  perhaps,  see  more 
clearly  and  appreciate  more  fully  the  genius  of 


Lights  and  Shadows  197 

Lenin,  for  it  required  a  genius  to  inspire  an 
impetus  out  of  Europe's  corruption.  We,  to- 
day, are  not  placed,  have  not  the  right  histori- 
cal perspective.  It  is  impossible  to  apply  the 
doctrine  of  "an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth  for 
a  tooth,"  and  still  maintain  the  final  supreme 
ideal  of  justice.  To  do  this  one  must  be  a 
Lenin — and  there  is  but  one  Lenin. 

But  the  masses  are  not  Lenins,  they  have  not 
had  his  profound  and  remarkable  revolution- 
ary experience.  And  these  masses,  who  have 
been  raised  on  the  eye  for  an  eye  and  tooth 
for  a  tooth  justice,  have  to  be  taken  into  ac- 
count. The  instincts  born  of  this  doctrine  be- 
come stronger  and  not  weaker  with  them. 

We  must  not  forget  also  that  the  Bolsheviki, 
because  of  the  general  conditions,  were  com- 
pelled to  introduce  both  military  and  indus- 
trial compulsory  conscription,  and  militarism 
of  any  kind  must  poison  the  minds  of  the  peo- 
ple. Militarism  may  be  necessary,  but  it  can 
never  be  good.  Our  civilization  has  accustomed 
us  to  think  in  terms  of  constraint,  violence  and 
revenge.  It  is  a  matter  for  profound  regret 
that  new  reformers  and  leaders  cannot  rise 
above  these  old  instincts  and  guide  us  in  the 
spirit  of  a  humanitarian  civilization.  ^ 


CHAPTER  VIII 

LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS CONTINUED 

After  the  fall  of  the  Tsar  I  heard  and  read 
so  many  expressions  of  sympathy  for  the  Rus- 
sian people  and  of  hatred  for  Tsardom,  both 
from  Europeans  and  Americans,  that  I  got  the 
impression  that  the  world  really  did  know  not 
only  what  Tsardom  meant  but  how  it  had  dealt 
with  us  Russians.  But  when  I  crossed  the 
Russian  frontier  I  was,  to  put  it  mildly,  not  a 
little  surprised  at  the  misunderstanding  and 
even  ignorance  which  I  found. 

Much  of  this  understanding  I  lay  to  the  war, 
in  the  violent  heat  of  which  people  of  Europe 
became  once  more  acquainted  with  things  and 
ideas  which  are  absolutely  incompatible  with 
even  the  most  moderate  principles  of  political 
democracy.  People  became  accustomed  and 
accepted  without  protest,  the  censorship,  state 
control,  a  restricted  individual  freedom,  a  blind 
obedience  to  the  supreme  will  of  those  who  led 

198 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      199 

in  the  cause  of  "democratic  justice  and  lib- 
erty." 

This  restriction  of  their  political  freedom 
caused  them  to  forget  their  democratic  free- 
dom and  prevented  them  from  understanding 
what  Tsardom  meant  for  us  who  had  been,  for 
centuries,  under  the  iron  heel  of  censorship, 
prisons,    police    jurisdiction,    and    the    many 
tyrannies  of  Tsarist  officialdom.     Our  love  of 
freedom  and  our  hatred  of  any  political  op- 
pression, were,  therefore,  chiefly  interpreted 
not  for  what  it  truly  meant,  but  for  Bolshe- 
vism.   This  new  word  with  an  old  meaning  is 
used  and  misused  now  to  characterize  the  most 
noble  and  the  most  criminal;  the  most  idealistic 
and  the  most  egoistic.     All  are  alike  thrown 
together  in  one  heap  and  labeled  Bolshevist. 
A  species  of  fear  psychosis  seems  to  affect  the 
minds  of  the  public.    Many  a  time,  since  I  left 
my  country  and  began  to  take  part  in  the 
political  and  social  life  of  the  rest  of  the  world, 
have  I  been  reminded  of  those  dark  days  of 
Tsarism  when  not  only  freedom  of  speech  and 
political  opinions  were  under  the  control  of  the 
Tsar's  policemen,  but  even  one's  aspirations 
and  dreams  were  shifted.    The  state  of  things 
I  found  reminded  me  of  the  time  when  the 


200    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

famous  writer,  Gogol,  wrote  his  wonderful 
satirical  novel,  "Dead  Souls,"  the  book  in  which 
he  holds  up  to  scorn  the  laz}%  ignorant,  stupid 
and  egoistic  serf  owners  of  his  time.  The  cen- 
sors forbade  its  publication  and  gave  as  a  rea- 
son for  their  action  the  following:  "Christ  said 
that  the  human  soul  is  immortal,  therefore  a 
soul  can  never  be  dead,  and  therefore  this  book 
is  heretical." 

These  same  censors — and  many  of  them  still 
survive  to-day — would  erase  from  Russian 
books  such  phrases  as  "bare  truth."  Truth  in 
the  Russian  language  is  feminine,  and  the  cen- 
sors asserted  that  the  expression  "bare  truth" 
was  indecent.  This  spirit  of  the  old  Russian 
censor  is  alive  now  in  the  twentieth  century. 
After  a  war  of  liberation  it  is  still  rampant  not 
only  among  government  officials  and  in  the 
military  headquarters,  but  in  every  home  and 
in  every  street.  Let  us  emphasize  ever  so 
slightly  the  meaning  of  the  word  "Liberty," 
and  we  are  immediately  called  a  "Bolshevik" 
or  a  "Red."  This  is  the  attitude  which  liberal 
and  radical  thinkers  describe  as  "political  re- 
action." By  the  conservatives  it  is  accepted  as 
the  expression  of  "the  noble  spirit  of  real  citi- 
zenship against  anarchy."    As  a  matter  of  fact 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      201 

it  is  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  It  is  simply 
the  after-effect  of  war,  the  terrible  result  of  five 
years  of  submission  without  criticism,  without 
light,  and  what  is  worse,  without  love.  For 
five  years  we  have  been  steadily  repeating  the 
words  "Militarism,"  "Imperiahsm,"  "Prussian- 
ism,"  and  "Atrocities,"  and  as  a  consequence, 
we  cannot  get  rid  of  the  hatred  that  has  been 
engendered  and  fostered  thereby,  and  we  are 
still  feeling  the  complacent  self-satisfaction 
which  we  enjoyed  during  that  period.  The 
human  mind,  so  worked  upon,  must  have  an- 
other object  or  another  subject  on  which  to 
exercise  its  own  unthinking,  submissive  and  re- 
actionary spirit.  And  it  needs  nothing  definite 
or  positive;  words,  phrases,  slogans  will  do. 
Anything  that  is  not  in  perfect  agreement  with 
preconceived  ideas  and  the  existing  order, 
everything  that  expresses  dissatisfaction  with 
stagnation  and  retrogression  in  "Bolshevism," 
"Red,"  "Labor,"  "Democracy,"  "Industrial 
Reconstruction,"  these  are  now  fearful  words, 
and  are  anathematized  as  "Bolshevism."  We 
forget  that  things  have  changed  in  the  world 
during  the  last  few  years.  Even  so  conserva- 
tive a  man  as  the  President  of  the  American 
Federation  of  Labor,  Samuel  Gompers,  whose 


i202    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

ideas  are  as  far  from  Bolshevism  as  are  Clem- 
enceau's  from  international  justice,  stated  be- 
fore the  Senate  Committee  which  investigated 
the  steel  strike,  that  democracy  now  means 
something  more  than  it  meant  formerly;  that 
democracy  and  justice  have  taken  on  new 
meanings  since  the  war.  And  there  are  people 
who  still  think  they  mean  less. 

Even  Samuel  Gompers  is  conscious  of  the 
increase  in  the  intensity  of  meaning  which  in- 
variably attends  the  decrease  of  the  reality, 
and  the  reality  differs  now  very  little  from  the 
state  of  affairs  which  once  existed  in  Russia, 
when  an  individual  felt  himself  always  sur- 
rounded by  authority  and  autocratic  powers, 
by  a  selfish  state  with  its  open  and  secret  spies 
and  by  selfish  statesmen ;  a  condition  which  re- 
sulted in  a  perpetual  moral  depression.  Dur- 
ing these  times  the  Russians  employed  an  old 
saying,  that  a  human  being  consisted  of  a  soul, 
a  body,  a  passport,  and  a  collar,  the  latter  serv- 
ing as  a  handgrip  for  the  policeman.  The 
political  anatomy  of  a  human  being  is  the  same 
to-day  as  it  was  then. 

But  branding  a  man  with  a  label  affected 
neither  the  soul  nor  the  reasoning  power  of  the 
man  so  branded.     It  merely  testified  to  the 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      203 

stupidity  of  the  individual  who  did  the  brand- 
ing, the  individual  who  was  incapable  of  re- 
ceiving criticism.  It  is  pathetic  to  realize  that 
after  years  of  blood  spilling,  we  should  have 
lost  the  power  to  think  critically,  and  are  only 
able  to  think  in  labels.  Many  values  and  many 
ideals  are  smothered  and  often  lost  to  the  world 
by  this  method,  even  though  we  elevate  the  high 
position  by  calling  it  "public  opinion."  It  was 
this  kind  of  public  opinion  that  burned  Lester 
Ward's  "Dynamic  Society,"  when  it  confused 
the  word  dynamic  with  dynamite. 

The  famous  Russian  sociologist  and  politi- 
cal thinker,  M.  Kovalevski,  had  a  similar  expe- 
rience on  his  return  to  Russia  from  abroad. 
When  he  arrived  at  the  frontier  the  Tsar's  cus- 
toms officer  asked  him:  "Have  you  any  books 
on  sociology?  You  know  in  Russia  .  .  .  soci- 
ology .  .  ." 

Such  ignorance  may  be  excused  in  the  man 
in  the  street,  but  when  it  is  part  of  the  politi- 
cal system  it  is  stark  reaction,  a  reaction  that 
is  the  outcome  of  a  debased  egotism  and  of 
individual  autocracy  in  every  phase  of  our  so- 
cial life.  It  goes  without  saying  that  such  a 
state  of  the  social  mind,  educated,  main- 
tained, and  developed  by  our  modern  state 


204    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

policy  cannot  make  for  fertility  and  growth, 
and  it  can  never  be  a  foundation  for  new 
social  constructive  achievements.  Such  a 
state  inevitably  calls  for  fundamental  changes, 
which  may  be  called  Bolshevism,  although 
they  may  have  nothing  in  common  with 
Bolshevism,  and  unless  the  changes  are  made 
it  will  bring  about  Bolshevism  in  its  most  acute 
and  destructive  form,  as  happened  in  Russia. 
Nobody  in  old  Russia,  none  of  the  old  groups, 
was  willing  to  assent  to  an  energetic  recon- 
struction of  the  new  Russia.  In  the  ascendant 
were  the  selfish  and  self-satisfied  advocates  of 
every  state  form  of  political  and  social  doc- 
trine. Any  criticism  or  doubt  of  them  was 
construed  in  terms  of  heresy.  Such  a  condition 
could  not  be  a  point  of  departure  toward  crea- 
tive construction.  Reactionary  indi\nduals  and 
groups  of  this  kind  could  not  continue  in  their 
activities  when  a  group  more  energetic,  more 
audacious,  and  less  scrupulous  in  their  adher- 
ence to  old  traditions  came  into  power.  And 
these  were  the  Bolsheviki,  or  rather,  such  in- 
dividuals as  Lenin  and  Trotzky.  Whether  we 
like  or  dislike  the  fact,  we  cannot  help  acknowl- 
edging that  these  survived  only  because  of  their 
real,  abiding  and  consistent  revolutionism.    At 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      205 

a  time  when  all  the  remaining  social  groups 
had  proved  themselves  weak  and  inadequate, 
no  place  was  left  on  the  historical  stage  for  any 
other  type  of  creed  and  character.  By  an 
ironic  fatality  of  history,  the  most  destructive 
and  the  most  intransigeant  elements  became  the 
most  creative  and  the  most  stable  of  social 
forces  for  Russia.  Those  who  fear  Bolshe- 
vism, who  disagree  with  it  in  principle  and  who 
hate  it  in  practice,  must  take  into  considera- 
tion the  terrible  experiences  of  Russia  and  the 
fatal  lesson  imparted  by  the  Russian  anti-Bol- 
shevist forces. 

It  seems  to  me  that  we  are  living  now  in  a 
time  when  no  false  reservations  should  be  main- 
tained. Things  must  be  called  by  their  right 
names  and  facts  must  be  faced  as  we  find  them. 
If  we  wish  to  escape  Bolshevism,  or  rather  if 
we  wish  to  fight  it,  we  must  first  of  all  fight 
ourselves;  because  Bolshevism  is  a  demonstra- 
tion by  violent  and  suppressive  methods  of 
what  we  were  unable  to  do  in  the  spirit  of 
cooperation  and  social  unity,  and  of  what  oth- 
ers were  compelled  to  do  after  their  own 
fashion  because  we  were  weak  and  short- 
sighted. The  existence  of  Bolshevism  is  not 
dangerous  in  itself,  and  does  not  threaten  by  its 


206    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

own  innate  vigor.  It  is  dangerous  because  it 
is  a  symptom  of  our  own  morbid  spiritual 
weakness.  It  is  a  warning  of  our  approaching 
death.  That  is  what  I  felt  shortly  before  I 
left  Russia,  and  what  I  felt  more  intensely 
when  I  traveled  through  Europe.  As  the  de- 
velopment of  events  in  Russia  have  shown,  my 
case  is  not  an  exceptional  one. 

Public  opinion  in  Europe  has  now  something 
to  learn  from  the  lessons  of  the  Russian  anti- 
Bolshevist  shortsightedness.  I  remember  two 
episodes  during  the  Bolshevist  revolution.  In 
the  halls  of  the  Winter  Palace  a  depressing 
silence  reigned.  The  place  was  empty  of  either 
people  or  sentinels.  Only  a  few  loud  voices 
could  be  heard  at  the  farther  end  of  one  of  the 
corridors.  Two  American  newspaper  men  had 
just  come  in  and  brought  the  news  that  the 
telephone  exchange  in  the  telegraph  building 
was  now  in  the  hands  of  the  Bolsheviki.  In 
one  of  the  small  rooms  in  a  corner  of  the  sec- 
ond floor  was  gathered  a  group  of  five  or  six 
men,  prominent  Socialist  leaders,  morally  de- 
feated, who  were  awaiting  their  physical  down- 
fall. Zinzinov,  a  member  of  the  Central  Com- 
mittee of  the  Social  Revolutionists  and  later  a 
Minister  in  the  Ufa  government,  expelled  from 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      207 

Russia  by  Kolchak,  took  up  the  receiver  and 
called  up  the  Central  Committee  of  his  party. 
"Hello!  Yes?  That  is  all  right."  He  spoke 
in  a  quiet,  reassuring  tone.  "They  (the  Bol- 
sheviki)  seem  played  out.  They  have  already 
lost  their  heads.  Smolny  (the  headquarters  of 
the  Soviets  in  Petrograd)  has  lost  its  ground. 
I  think  that  in  the  next  few  hours  it  will  be  all 
right.    Yes,  surely,  I  will  call  up." 

An  hour  later  the  Winter  Palace  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  people  who  acted  under  the 
direction  of  this  same  Smolny. 

Two  days  later  Petrograd,  dark  and  suffer- 
ing, was  dripping  from  a  continuous  down- 
pour of  rain.  The  booming  of  guns  in  the 
suburbs,  the  continuous  rattle  of  machine  guns, 
which  worked  with  the  incessant  precision  of 
sewing  machines,  filled  the  air.  In  the  little 
dirty  headquarters  of  the  Central  Executive 
Committee  of  Peasants  stood  a  crowd  of  people 
who  had  either  come  to  fight  or  who  had  gath- 
ered there  because  they  had  nowhere  else  to 
go.  In  one  corner  a  steady  clack  of  conversa- 
tion issued  from  a  committee  which  was  called 
"The  Committee  of  Salvation."  From  time 
to  time,  a  figure  with  red,  sleepless  eyes  and  a 
bleak,  determined  face  would  emerge  from  the 


208    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

small,  dark  corridor  which  led  to  this  room, 
run  through  the  main  hall,  and  then  scurry- 
back  again  to  this  secret  chamber  of  weakness 
and  despair.  The  former  Minister  of  Labor, 
Skobielev,  hke  the  others,  darted  frequently  in 
and  out.  I  stopped  him.  He  smiled  at  me 
strangely,  and  I  asked  him  what  was  the  mat- 
ter. He  was  in  a  hurry,  for  they  were  all 
hurrying  in  those  days.  "It  is  all  right,"  he 
answered,  in  a  brave  gay  tone.  "I  thought  that 
they  (the  Bolsheviki)  would  maintain  their 
hold  six  or  seven  days.  I  did  not  expect  them 
to  lose  it  in  six  or  seven  hours.  The  end  is  in 
sight." 

It  is  now  about  three  years  since  I  lis- 
tened to  this  brief  and  hopeful  prophecy,  and 
the  six  or  seven  hours  still  last.  That  is  the 
best  demonstration  of  the  shortsightedness 
which  is  so  sure  that  it  sees  all,  and  of  the 
weakness  which  considers  itself  able  to  fight 
any  force  and  to  defeat  any  enemy. 

The  other  episode  I  recall  brings  up  to  my 
mind  what  strikes  me  as  the  most  tragic  expres- 
sion I  ever  heard  from  the  lips  of  an  anti-Bol- 
shevist leader  in  the  course  of  the  whole  Bolshe- 
vist revolution.  On  one  of  those  miserable  days 
of  bloodshed  when  certain  Russian  groups,  led 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      209 

by  Allied  officers,  were  conducting  a  fratricidal 
struggle  in  the  streets  of  Petrograd,  I  asked 
N.  D.  Avksentieff  (former  Minister  of  the  In- 
terior under  Kerensky),  ""Wliat  will  happen? 
What  are  they  able  to  do?"  "What,"  answered 
Avksentieff,  and  his  brows  came  together, 
"what  can  happen  when  I  am  the  strongest 
among  them?" 

Somewhat  too  late  he  understood  the  value 
of  his  sarcastic  tribute  to  himself !  Yet  he  was 
one  of  the  prominent  leaders  of  the  largest 
party  of  the  Russian  Revolution.  Because 
they  were  so  numerous,  because  they  were  the 
majoritj%  they  believed  that  they  could  be  in- 
transigeant  doctrinaires ;  that  their  devotion  to 
neat  formulas  and  to  precise  principles  suffi- 
ciently guaranteed  the  stability  of  their  social 
order.  They  believed  that  their  numbers 
alone  would  keep  them  secure.  History  has 
shown  that  they  were  mistaken — fatally  mis- 
taken. 

The  first  day  after  the  taking  of  the  Winter 
Palace,  I  happened  to  be  in  the  Smolny  Insti- 
tute, at  that  time  the  headquarters  of  Trotzky. 
Lenin  had  already  returned  to  Petrograd 
from  his  exile.  His  arrival  at  six  in  the  morn- 
ing had  been  kept  secret  from  the  people,  be- 


210    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

cause,  although  Kerensky's  government  had 
been  overthrown  conditions  appeared  so  uncer- 
tain that  it  was  not  considered  safe  for  him  to 
appear  before  the  people  until  noon.  Trotzky 
showed  himself  at  one  of  the  doorwaj^-s  and 
looked  about,  veiling  his  nervousness  with  a 
seeming  air  of  confidence.  A  man  approached 
'  and  very  soon  a  group  of  about  thirty  people 
gathered  about  him.  "Have  you  a  Minister  of 
War?"  asked  the  man.  "Yes,"  was  the  an- 
swer, and  the  characteristic  Trotzky  smile 
broke  through  the  dark  cloud  of  his  mustache 
and  beard.  "Who  is  he?"  "Verhofsky," 
(Minister  of  War  under  Kerensky).  "But 
will  he  accept?"  was  the  amazed  question.  The 
smile  disappeared,  and  a  glint  of  cruelty  shone 
in  Trotzky's  eyes.  "Of  course  he  will,"  was 
his  answer,  and  he  gripped  his  revolver  in  a 
tightly  clenched  hand. 

At  the  time  this  scene  occurred  my  thoughts 
were  still  in  a  confused  state.  The  idealism  of 
Kerensky,  the  vague  hopes  for  a  Western 
European  democracy,  which  seemed  to  me  then 
much  less  hopeless  than  it  appeared  after  I 
had  come  face  to  face  with  it  on  the  other  side 
of  my  country's  frontier,  the  faith  that  even 
our  contemporary  European  heart  was  not  ab- 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      211 

solutely  without  feeling,  the  dread  of  the  Ger- 
man Kaiser,  the  eloquent  formal  pledges  of 
London  and  Paris,  all  these  thoughts  borne  by 
my  mind  in  the  noisy  atmosphere  of  machine 
guns,  made  me  hate  this  face  of  Trotzky.  I 
questioned  his  assurance,  because  I  did  not  see 
at  that  time  anything  but  the  violence  of  it, 
the  cruelty  of  conquering  power.  Later  I 
understood  that  it  was  not  Trotzky  and  not 
his  gun  and  not  his  smile  which  were  import- 
ant. What  was  important  was  the  iron  will 
of  the  historical  Nemesis.  If  people  are  de- 
nied the  sunlight  of  common  love  they  will  get 
what  they  can  by  way  of  substitute  from  the 
heat  of  violence.  They  will  not  at  any  rate  be 
content  with  the  empty  lamp  of  formal  ideal- 
ism. The  inspiration  of  violence  will  take  the 
place  that  love  would  occupy  in  a  solidarized 
society. 

That  is  what  happened  in  Russia.  And  that 
is  why,  little  by  little,  right  down  to  our  own 
days,  all  the  weak,  idealistic  and  futile  social 
elements  came  back,  either  openly  or  in  disguise 
to  those  who  had  overpowered  them  for  the 
"six  or  seven  hours"  which  have  lasted  so 
long. 

JJnder  the  banner  of  patriotism  many  are  di- 


212    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

rectly  or  indirectly  supporting  the  Russian 
Soviet  Government  in  its  fight  against  the 
aggressive  foreign  intervention.  Under  the 
banner  of  revolution  many  have  ceased  their 
struggle  against  the  Bolsheviki  and  have 
doubled  their  fight  against  reaction.  But  it 
means  a  surrender.  Many  of  the  old  groups 
and  parties  cannot  allow  themselves,  because  of 
a  sense  of  noblesse  oblige,  to  go  ahead  sincerely 
and  to  cooperate  openly  and  frankly;  but  the 
effect  remains  the  same. 

The  Russian  Revolution  acquired  signifi- 
cance not  because  the  Tsar  was  overthrown, 
nor  even  primarily  because  of  the  tremendous 
social  experiment  that  was  undertaken,  but 
chiefly  because  it  demonstrated  two  things. 
It  exhibited,  in  the  first  place,  the  abilities  and 
disabilities  of  the  modern  European  intellec- 
tuals, with  their  hesitant  philosophizing  about 
life,  and  their  failure  to  breathe  life  into  their 
philosophy.  And  in  the  second  place  the  revo- 
lution showed  how  helpless  and  miserably  self- 
destructive  is  the  state  which  puts  its  trust  into 
the  formulae  of  a  majority  to  carry  out  the 
supremely  valuable  ideas  of  individual  recon- 
struction, and  which  thereby  seeks  to  trans- 
form the  free  human  being,  with  a  free  will,  a 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      213 

free  soul,  and  a  free  mind,  into  a  thing  com- 
posed of  a  soul,  a  body,  a  passport,  and  a 
collar. 

All  these  elements  were  unable  to  accom- 
plish any  progressive  or  constructive  work,  so 
that  the  abler  came  to  impose  their  will,  and 
it  is  very  doubtful  whether  Lenin  and  Trotzky 
and  the  Bolsheviki  are  guilty  in  themselves  of 
their  methods  and  instrumentalities.  It  seems 
to  me  that  the  root  of  the  question  lies  else- 
where, that  it  may  be  traced  to  the  idea  that 
political  democracy  is  an  ultima  ratio,  and  to 
the  fact  that  with  all  its  doctrines  and  theories 
and  conservative  traditions,  the  modern  state 
and  modern  society  did  not  create  any  other 
alternative  to  the  old  methods  of  force,  vio- 
lence, and  constraint,  which  are  common  alike 
to  the  Bolsheviki  and  to  their  opponents. 
Lenin  did  not  fail  to  apply  the  tactics  of  the 
old  strategy,  because  the  old  order  did  not 
teach  anything  else.  It  is  proper  to  question 
whether  he  is  right  from  the  point  of  view  of 
ultimate  morals  and  ethics,  and,  frankly  speak- 
ing, that  question  is  a  difficult  one  to  answer. 
It  may  seem  that  he  is  not  more,  and  there- 
fore not  less,  right  than  were  those  who  by 
means  of  centralized  militaristic  organization 


214    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

aimed  to  crush  the  centrahzed  Prussian  mili- 
tarism. 

But  still  there  is  a  difference,  and  it  lies  not 
in  the  field  of  social  ethics  but  in  the  field  of 
psychology.  A  race,  a  country,  or  a  nation 
fighting  another  race  or  country  or  nation  be- 
comes inevitably  self-conscious  and  egoistic  as 
to  its  own  values,  and  in  place  of  the  recently 
destroyed  militaristic  ambition  of  the  van- 
quished  enemy  we  have  the  new  ambition  of  the 
victor.  Instead  of  Hindenburg  we  have  Foch, 
and  instead  of  oppressed  Galicia  and  Posen 
we  have  an  oppressed  Egypt  and  banks  of  the 
Rhine.  But  in  a  revolutionary  struggle  there 
is  no  place  for  imperialism  because  a  people  in 
revolution  fight  first  of  all  against  themselves. 
That  is  the  tragedy  of  it.  The  armies  in  a 
revolution  do  not  speak  different  languages, 
nor  do  they  wear  different  uniforms,  unless 
they  are  provided  by  foreign  interference. 
They  are  not  proud  of  themselves.  They  are 
destroying  their  own  resources,  the  best  repre- 
sentatives of  their  own  nation,  their  own  cul- 
ture. That,  to  a  great  extent,  makes  a  differ- 
ence between  the  use  made  by  Lenin  and  Trot- 
zky  of  the  old  methods,  from  the  use  made  of 
them  by  Hindenburg,  Foch,  and  the  rest,  al- 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      215 

though  in  form  the  methods  cannot  be  distin- 
guished at  all. 

There  is  one  thing  more  to  note  about  the 
Russian  Revolution.  Since  the  French  Revo- 
lution we  have  been  accustomed  to  compare  all 
new  popular  movements  and  struggles  with  the 
experience  of  France  from  '69  to  '93.  And  we 
may  feel  rather  skeptical  about  the  outcome  of 
Leninism  in  Russia  if  we  have  in  mind  Robes- 
pierre, Danton,  and  Marat,  and  the  pohcy 
which  brought  in  Napoleon  the  First.  But  Na- 
poleon the  First  was  the  result  not  of  the 
French  Revolution,  but  of  the  Foreign  Inter- 
vention of  Great  Britain  and  Prussia.  Again, 
the  French  Revolution  was  only  a  transition 
from  feudal  autocracy  as  represented  by  the 
king,  to  a  parliamentary  democracy,  and  was 
therefore  only  a  political  upheaval,  despite  the 
new  elements  represented  by  the  French  peas- 
antry. And  parliamentary  democracy,  as  we 
have  seen  in  the  last  war,  does  not  prevent  in- 
ternational gambling  and  imperialist  aggres- 
sion. Therefore,  once  political  democracy  was 
established  it  could  continue  even  under  Na- 
poleon, and  even  in  alliance  with  the  Pope. 
Politics  were  then,  as  they  have  always  been, 
unscrupulous,  and  admitted  and  even  required 


216    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

cooperation  and  alliances  wherever  possible. 
The  Russian  Revolution,  on  the  contrary,  and 
especially  that  under  the  Soviets,  was  based 
first  of  all  on  social  motives  and  on  uncondi- 
tional pacifism.  So  that  the  Russian  revolu- 
tionary militarism  is  not  even  a  by-product  of 
the  Russian  Revolution,  but  reflects  the  system 
inspired  in  Europe  and  sharpened  by  Euro- 
pean practices. 

On  the  restless  and  dark  surface  of  contem- 
porary Europe  Russia  may  be  seen  with  a  new 
significance  as  the  one  spot  where  an  idealistic 
struggle  was  fought;  wisely  or  unwisely,  pure 
or  impure,  it  was  nevertheless  fought ;  and  amid 
the  darkness  of  a  forest  of  bayonets  she  casts 
the  one  ray  of  light.  Is  it  a  wonder  that  Rus- 
sia produces  so  many  academic  Bolsheviks  who 
never  dreamed  of  being  Sovietists  or  even  revo- 
lutionists? The  nation  that  dared  to  bare  its 
chest  before  the  German  bayonets,  to  present 
its  open  suffering  face  in  front  of  English  and 
French  guns,  how  can  we  fear  such  a  nation? 
We  must  remember  that  the  government  which 
holds  it  together  is  trying  to  realize  a  new 
dream  and  a  new  ideal  both  of  which  come,  per- 
haps, only  temporarily,  but  which  must  not  be 
extinguished  if  mankind  aspires  to  creative  and 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      217 

progressive  life  instead  of  social  stagnation  and 
smug  individual  complacency. 

Maeterlinck  some  few  years  ago  began  his 
search  for  the  blue  bird  of  happiness,  and  as  he 
could  not  find  it  under  the  guidance  of  the  old 
generations,  he  had  to  employ  two  children, 
Tyltyl  and  Myltyl  to  aid  him  in  the  quest. 
Wandering  through  this  world  and  other 
worlds,  they  could  find  nothing  but  the  old 
shades  of  their  ancestors,  and  the  old  material 
things — bread,  milk,  sugar.  And  when  for  a 
while  it  seemed  to  them  that  they  had  cap- 
tured the  bird,  it  flew  away  again,  very  far 
away,  because  the  youthful  dreams  of  the  two 
children  were  only  dreams,  and  the  blue  bird 
of  justice,  beauty,  and  happiness  could  not  re- 
main in  the  old  worlds.  We  have  now  learned 
that  the  old  worlds  must  be  made  anew,  and  in 
the  remaking  humanity  is  experiencing  pain 
and  suffering,  because  there  is  no  birth  without 
pain  and  suffering. 

So  noble  and  peace-loving  a  character  as 
the  Belgian  poet,  Emile  Verhaeren,  the  Euro- 
pean Walt  Whitman,  saw  rebellion  as  an  in- 
spiring struggle  of  humanity  for  happiness. 
He  felt  no  regret  at  seeing  crowds  burning  the 
archives  and  destroying  the  old  monuments. 


218    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

He  saw  these  acts  as  signs  of  a  new  life,  in  a 
new  guise  certainly,  arising  from  the  ashes  of 
the  old.  In  the  social  stress  and  unrest  of  our 
day  we  are  facing  the  emergence  of  something 
shadowed  forth  in  the  destructive  and  creative 
dreams  of  Nietzsche.  Russia  is  the  first  new 
figure  to  emerge  into  the  daylight  of  reality. 
Since  the  time  of  Peter  the  Great  she  had  as- 
similated in  her  political  and  social  body  all 
that  was  characteristic  of  Europe,  and  all  that 
was  noble  and  creative  in  Russia.  She  is  now 
burning,  not  in  a  fire  of  her  own  making,  but 
in  fires  as  of  an  auto-da-fe  which  European 
blindness  and  ambition  had  encircled  her. 
That  is  her  real  position,  and  it  is  also  her  true 
significance  and  value.  It  is  her  contribution 
to  the  forces  that  will  bring  about  the  passing 
of  the  old  order  in  Europe. 

Before  it  finally  passes  we  cannot  foretell 
what  further  sacrifices  this  old  order  will  de- 
mand, both  from  Europe  as  a  whole  and  from 
Russia  in  particular.  But  this  certainly  we 
may  cling  to.  The  old  order  is  passing,  and 
whether  Russia  be  made  the  victim  of  a  twen- 
tieth century  European  Inquisition  or  not,  the 
old  Europe  will  no  longer  remain.    When  an 


Lights  and  Shadows — Continued      219 

age  is  tottering  down  hill  on  its  way  to  death, 
it  may  crush  many  fresh  lives  in  its  clumsy 
career,  but  it  cannot  halt  its  own  final  destruc- 
tion. 


CHAPTER  IX 

CONSEQUENCES   AND   POSSIBILITIES 

We  have  now  reached  a  point  where  we  may 
attempt  to  smnmarize,  however  briefly,  the 
conditions  of  present-day  Europe  and  indi- 
cate, however  sketchily,  the  trend  of  its  future 
social  and  spiritual  development.  At  the  very 
outset,  however,  we  find  ourselves  confronted 
with  a  capital  difficulty.  We  need  a  new  lan- 
guage in  which  to  express  ourselves.  The  vo- 
cabulary of  political  and  social  thought  is  clut- 
tered with  words  which  actually  stand  for  lit- 
tle more  than  the  Baconian  Idola.  The  greater 
part  of  our  traditional  concepts  have  lost  their 
meaning  for  the  present  generation,  and  they 
have  either  been  narrowed  by  the  specialist  in- 
vestigator or  warped  out  of  all  useful  shape  by 
the  special  pleader.  The  word  Progress,  for 
example,  is  one  of  the  more  notorious  Idola. 
Whereas  it  is  commonly  used  both  by  the 
scholar  and  the  popular  speaker  as  though  its 

220 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        221 

implications  were  so  clear  they  needed  no 
further  exposition,  the  fact  of  the  matter  is 
that  there  is  scarcely  a  thinker  alive  to-day  who 
could  give  a  constructive  definition  of  the  word 
which  would  be  acceptable  to  the  majority  of 
his  contemporaries.  "When  a  Russian  writer 
like  Engelhart  can  write  on  "Progress  as  the 
Development  of  Cruelty,"  we  can  easily  see 
how  the  word  lends  itself  to  specious  and  ma- 
licious argumentation. 

Now,  what  is  commonly  called  progress 
proves  upon  close  examination  to  be  some- 
thing quite  different.  About  the  progress  of 
politics  in  the  nineteenth  century  much  has 
been  written.  In  the  course  of  our  survey  I 
have  tried  to  make  clear  what  this  "progress" 
meant  in  terms  of  the  modern  state.  In  real- 
ity it  came  to  little  more  than  the  idea  of  ex- 
ploitation of  the  weak  by  those  who  are  in 
power,  or  by  those  who  achieved  power 
through  the  operation  of  a  clumsy  constitu- 
tional mechanism.  This  notion  of  exploita- 
tion, in  the  interests  of  "progress"  has  been 
duly  dressed  up  in  the  garments  of  justice  and 
truth  and  liberty  and  what  not,  so  that  it 
should  seem  to  those  who  are  governed  that  our 
"progressive"  institutions  have  actually  created 


222    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

for  them  a  more  favorable  condition  of  life.  It 
is  characteristic  of  our  modern  civilization  that 
this  feature  of  its  political  life  should  have 
been  judiciously  formulated  in  Germany  above 
all  other  countries.  For,  as  I  explained  in  an 
earlier  chapter,  the  chief  error  of  Germany  was 
to  carry  modern  civilization  rigorously  to  its 
conclusions.  It  was  no  other  than  the  German 
philosopher  Rudolph  Eucken,  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Jena,  who  fifteen  years  ago  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  individual  who  suffers  in 
modern  society  will  necessarily  try  to  find  se- 
curity and  solace — and  even  self-expression — 
in  the  state.  This  philosophj'',  of  course,  was 
utilized  not  so  much  to  assist  the  individual  as 
to  bolster  up  the  authority  of  the  state,  and 
in  actual  practice  it  served  as  well  to  justify 
the  arrogation  of  power  by  republican  gov- 
ernments as  it  did  to  strengthen  the  long- 
established  hold  of  the  monarchies.  The  actual 
behavior  of  this  philosophy  of  state  was  far  dif- 
ferent from  its  philosophic  assumptions.  It 
was  not  merely  that  the  state  failed  to  protect 
the  individual,  to  relieve  his  distress,  to  listen 
to  his  aspirations.  The  state  went  so  far  as  to 
use  him  and  exploit  him  for  its  own  purposes. 
The  state  took  from  him  as  much  of  his  initia- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        223 

tive  and  his  productive  value  as  it  could  use  for 
its  bureaucracy  and  its  military  machine,  and 
it  suppressed  as  far  as  possible  all  the  rest  of 
his  autonomous  energies  and  activities.  As 
far  as  political  development  is  concerned  it  is 
plain  that  our  boasted  "progress"  was  only  a 
higher  development  of  state  power.  It  resulted 
in  a  fallacious  identification  of  individual  dis- 
positions with  those  of  the  government.  Prog- 
ress in  this  sense  was  the  justification  of  things 
as  they  were  because  they  were. 

Along  that  line  no  genuine  movement  for- 
ward is  possible.  The  new  way  out  for  which 
we  seek  will  not  be  discovered  by  following  the 
old  way  through.  Did  not  Germany  prove 
that? 

From  the  moral  point  of  view  the  progres- 
sive achievements  of  our  age  are  equally  il- 
lusory. The  movement  toward  international 
pacification  and  humanitarianism  with  which 
the  twentieth  century  proclaimed  its  advent  ap- 
pears actually  to  have  slipped  backward  from 
the  position  it  had  reached  in  the  days  of  Cob- 
den  and  Bright.  In  our  private  life,  in  our 
individual  thinking,  we  may  have  been  moved 
by  high  moral  sentiments  and  directed  by  noble 
ideas,  but  as  soon  as  we  responded  to  the  gladi- 


224    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

atorial  call  of  the  political  and  social  arena 
we  stripped  ourselves  of  our  moral  armor  and 
went  forth  to  do  battle  as  animals  with  no 
other  nature  than  a  zoological  one.  Our  mor- 
ality was  battered  into  uselessness  by  the  strug- 
gles of  our  public  lives.  In  the  sphere  of 
international  and  inter-human  relations  we 
appeared  as  so  many  animals  that  had  broken 
out  from  the  zoo.  Morality  was  to  us  a  cage 
from  which  we  had  escaped.  At  large  again, 
we  could  enjoy  an  exquisite  savagery  which 
carried  us  back  farther  than  the  Java  man. 
That  was  not  the  return  to  Nature  which  Rous- 
seau pleaded  for  and  Tolstoy  practiced.  These 
great  thinkers  wished  to  escape  what  was  wrong 
in  civilization.  Our  modern  leaders  wished 
us  to  recover  what  was  wrong  even  in  savagery. 
I  have,  of  course,  magnified  our  departure 
from  common  moral  standards,  and  I  must 
therefore  hasten  somewhat  to  qualify  the  pre- 
ceding paragraph.  I  am  not  asserting  that 
we  left  no  room  anywhere  for  those  moral 
ideals  which  are  the  finest  fruits  of  the  creative 
human  mind.  But  I  do  say  that  we  felt  no 
necessity  for  incorporating  in  our  social  and 
political  life  the  standards  that  we  had  firmly 
established  in  theory,  and  partly  carried  out  in 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        225 

practice,  for  our  individual  lives.  In  the  social 
field  we  were  content  to  remain  "real"  poli- 
ticians and  "practical"  men.  We  sought  not 
the  social  good,  but  private  privilege;  not  so- 
cial achievement,  but  private  satisfaction;  not 
social  welfare,  but  private  possession.  This 
kind  of  primitive  "pragmatism"  is  the  real 
characteristic  of  what  we  call  progress  and  ad- 
vance. Our  tendency  to  advance  along  these 
lines  recalls  to  me  a  line  of  Plato's  to  the  ef- 
fect that  if  life  were  to  progress  continuously 
it  would  become  unbearable. 

What  Plato  may  have  meant  by  this  enig- 
matic sentence  it  is  now  impossible  to  say:  its 
meaning  in  our  present  situation,  however,  is 
poignant.  Beyond  all  doubt  the  progress  of 
Western  European  civilization  has  already 
made  life  unbearable.  At  the  risk  of  tedium 
I  must  revert  to  the  last  war  for  illustration, 
for  I  find  in  it  a  magnificent  recapitulation  of 
our  "progressive"  accomplisliments.  History, 
indeed,  has  much  to  tell  us  from  its  many  wars. 
When  Guy  de  Maupassant  visited  the  desert 
of  Sahara  and  saw  the  wide  stretch  of  golden 
sand  dotted  here  and  there  with  little  scarlet 
flowers  he  exclaimed:  ''Du  sang  et  de  Vor, 
toute  histoire  humainer    Blood  and  gold,  the 


226    Tlie  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

whole  history  of  humanity !  The  twentieth  cen- 
tury is  not  different  from  the  preceding  cen- 
turies in  its  selection  of  the  materials  of  his- 
tory: it  uses  the  same  ingredients  and  mixes 
them  in  the  same  fashion.  Indeed  our  century 
has  surpassed  others,  because  of  the  scientific 
resources  which  it  was  able  to  throw  into  the 
scales.  But  those  who  think  of  Hannibal, 
Caesar,  Xerxes,  Napoleon,  and  Moltke  on  one 
hand,  and  of  Socrates,  Buddha,  and  Christ  on 
the  other,  will  understand  that  the  last  war 
was  something  more  than  a  repetition  of  old 
experiences.  They  will  realize  that  continu- 
ous progress  has  at  last  made  life  unbearable, 
and  has  thus  made  the  main  task  of  our  gen- 
eration nothing  less  than  a  paradox.  We  can 
achieve  salvation  to-day  only  by  stopping  prog- 
ress !  We  must  stop  it  lest  it  bring  us  to  ulti- 
mate annihilation. 

No  part  of  the  world  has  escaped  from  the 
general  hardship  and  suffering  occasioned  by 
our  last  achievement  in  "progress."  We  can 
no  longer  look  to  a  new  Columbus  or  Ponce 
de  Leon  to  discover  for  us  new  lands  where 
society  may  begin  life  afresh,  for  all  the  lands 
are  now  not  merely  occupied  but  interrelated, 
and  the  smallest  village  in  Armenia,  Turke- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        227 

stan,  or  Siberia  has  shared  something  of  the 
terror  and  misery  of  our  great  debacle.  INTo 
virgin  country,  no  undiscovered  land,  will  give 
us  the  inspiration  for  a  fresh  start.  No  stimu- 
lus from  an  external  environment  will  help  us : 
weakness,  debilitation,  and  fatigue  are  every- 
where. We  must  discover  our  new  world  from 
within.  We  must  put  aside  smug  self-satis- 
factions and  a  mean  consciousness  of  "suc- 
cess." We  must  pause  to  contemplate  what  we 
have  attained,  not  what  we  have  obtained,  what 
we  are,  not  what  we  possess.  During  the  war 
the  great  German  pacifist,  Foerster,  whom  I 
have  already  quoted,  used  to  tell  us  that  the 
peace  which  was  to  come  (and  unfortunately  is 
still  to  come)  could  not  be  won,  but  must  be 
merited.  His  words  sounded  then  like  the 
banalities  of  a  sermon,  for  we  thought  we  could 
win  justice  and  truth  and  liberty  by  means  of 
our  Realpolitik.  We  took  it  for  granted  that 
these  ideals  would  flower  naturally  once  we 
held  the  initiative  in  the  world  of  power.  But 
Foerster  was  right.  Our  physical  victory  was 
not  enough:  we  were  not  able  to  achieve  a 
moral  victory,  and  the  nations  that  gathered  at 
Versailles  could  not  arrange  a  peace,  because 
they  did  not  deserve  it. 


228    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

But  it  is  not  alone  in  politics  and  morals 
that  our  progress  has  been  deceptive.  The 
economic  aspect  of  "progress"  betrays  equally- 
gross  anomalies. 

Our  economic  life  differs  very  little  to-day 
from  what  it  was  in  the  days  of  slavery  or  the 
constitutional  serfdom  of  the  first  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Our  discoveries  and  in- 
ventions in  science  have  but  aided  to  increase 
the  activity  of  the  exploiters  and  enslavers. 
The  system  may  have  changed  its  form,  but 
in  essence  it  is  the  same.  Prior  to  the  intro- 
duction of  the  steam  engine  and  the  telegraph, 
we  had  slavery  frankly  accepted  and  openly 
practiced.  Domesticated  human  beings  were 
bought  and  sold  like  horses  and  cows ;  they  and 
their  progeny  were  bequeathed  to  unborn  gen- 
erations as  property.  We  look  back  now  on 
that  period  as  a  dark  age  and  congratulate 
ourselves  on  the  wonderful  progress  we  have 
made  since  that  time,  and  we  do  not  omit  to 
refer  to  the  briefness  of  the  period  that  has 
elapsed,  in  order  to  emphasize  the  rapidity  of 
our  progress. 

But  all  the  wonderful  inventions  and  discov- 
eries of  the  nineteenth  and  twentieth  centuries 
cannot  compare  with  the  discovery  of  the  value 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        229 

of  a  human  being  possessed  with  a  dignity  of 
his  own.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  the  abohtion  of 
serfdom  in  Russia  and  the  emancipation  of 
the  negro  in  America — two  events  which 
marked  periods  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth 
century — when  we  try  to  assess  to-day  the 
dignity  and  value  of  a  human  being  per  se, 
what  do  we  find?  We  find  that  industrial  de- 
velopment and  economic  conditions  have  de- 
based these  values  and  enslaved  the  individual 
just  as  they  were  debased  and  enslaved  during 
the  previous  two  centuries.  But  with  the  sin- 
gle difference,  that  whereas,  formerly,  human 
bodies  were  enslaved  for  the  value  of  their 
muscles,  because  the  dignity  of  a  man  with  a 
brain  and  a  soul  had  not  yet  been  discovered, 
modern  society  has  enslaved  him  for  the  new 
values  of  his  brain  and  soul. 

The  classification  of  human  beings  into 
higher  and  lower,  no  longer  obtains  as  it  did 
in  our  earlier  period.  But  it  still  holds  good 
to-day  in  substance,  as  a  basis  of  our  social 
life.  It  is  not  recognized  by  any  constitution, 
but  it  is  part  of  an  unwi-itten  law.  It  is  very 
significant  that  at  the  Versailles  Peace  Con- 
ference, a  conference  held  at  the  end  of  the 
second  decade  of  the  twentieth  century,  no  one 


230    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

dared  to  make  a  frank  declaration  of  human 
equality;  and  the  covenants  of  the  conference 
concerning  labor  are  expressed  in  the  vaguest 
language  possible.  Even  so  conservative  a 
labor  representative  as  Samuel  Gompers  de- 
clared at  the  last  convention  of  the  American 
Federation  of  Labor,  that  the  labor  classes  in- 
cluded in  the  Peace  Treaty  were  very  far  from 
expressing  what  the  American  representatives 
of  labor  demanded  officially  in  Paris.  Were 
we  to  read  carefully  the  language  of  the  peace 
covenants  affecting  labor,  we  would  be  amazed 
at  its  lack  of  recognition  of  human  dignity, 
and  its  implication  of  the  wretchedness  of  hu- 
man spirits.  For  we  find  there  stated  calmly 
and  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  labor  is  not  a 
matter  of  commercial  speculation;  that  labor 
cannot  be  bought  or  sold;  that  children  shall 
not  be  over-exploited  and  their  young  muscles 
and  brains  weakened  at  the  very  earliest  pe- 
riod of  their  existence.  Wliat  an  indictment  of 
our  civilization !  But  even  agreeing  that  these 
covenants  of  the  Peace  Treaty  are  sincere  and 
will  be  observed;  assuming  that  the  minds  of 
the  old  men  at  Versailles  were  really  illumi- 
nated for  a  moment  with  the  light  of  justice 
and  moral  principles,  we  still  must  be  over- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        231 

come  by  shame  and  a  sense  of  degradation,  that 
in  the  century  of  dreadnaughts  and  aeroplanes, 
in  an  age  when  our  pride  in  civihzation  rose  to 
its  highest  pitch,  such  decrees  as  these  have  to 
be  written  at  all.  When  the  serfs  were  freed 
a  genuine  rearrangement  of  the  social  forces 
in  Russia  was  made,  and  we  really  saw  large 
numbers  of  former  slaves  passing  through  the 
narrow  gates  of  society  and  the  state.  In  these 
days  we  try  to  get  rid  of  the  burden  of  modern 
slavery  by  means  of  scraps  of  paper  and  diplo- 
matic phrases,  and  we  do  not,  in  any  way,  en- 
large our  social  field  or  change  our  economic 
system.  It  is  not  a  matter  of  the  relations  be- 
tween the  suffering  and  exploited  slave  major- 
ity and  the  exploiting  minority.  It  is  simply 
a  matter  of  the  value  of  life.  What  value  can 
life  have  when  its  basis  is  slavery,  for  those  who 
do  not  happen  to  be  born  into  the  family  of  a 
factory  owner? 

The  exploitation  of  human  labor  and  the 
growing  power  of  capitalistic  concentration, 
gave  play  in  the  highest  degree  to  what  Ber- 
trand  Russell  calls  the  possessive  instincts. 
This  instinct  for  possession  is  more  rampant  in 
the  economic  than  it  is  in  the  political. 

From  the  ethical  standpoint  our  economic 


232    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

situation  is  a  tragic  failure.  We  have  been 
content  to  conduct  our  lives  as  though  Christ 
were  merely  a  puppet  of  clericalism ;  as  though 
ethics  were  but  a  university  study  which 
should  be  pursued  for  the  sake  of  a  "passing 
mark;"  as  though  the  distribution  of  vital 
wealth  and  the  establishment  of  human  solid- 
arity were  of  less  consequence  than  the  trans- 
portation of  freight  and  the  regimentation  of 
workers  and  soldiers.  Our  morality  itself  is  a 
fetich,  one  of  the  Baconian  Idola.  We  have 
lost  respect  for  its  true  meaning  and  have  neg- 
lected the  necessity  for  maintaining  its  integ- 
rity, and  for  our  irreverence  and  neglect  we 
have  had  to  pay  a  terrible  penalty.  Unless 
we  can  recover  the  essential  spirit  of  morality, 
unless  we  can  restore  it  to  its  rightful  place 
in  our  lives,  our  "civilization"  will  continue  to 
be  a  mockery,  and  our  "progress"  a  burden. 
In  politics,  in  economics,  in  morality  we  have 
decidedly  reached  an  impasse.  We  cannot  go 
forward  in  the  old  direction  without  faring 
worse.  How  shall  we  climb  out  of  the  ruins 
that  have  fallen  about  us  without  creating 
gi-eater  ruin?  How  shall  we  contrive  a  new 
alignment  of  social  forces?  With  whom  shall 
we  cooperate  and  to  what  end  shall  we  work? 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        233 

We  must  bear  these  questions  constantly  in 
mind  as  we  pursue  our  analysis  of  the  present- 
day  structure  of  society. 

First  of  all,  let  us  ask  ourselves  whether  there 
is  possibly  any  automatic  escape  from  our 
predicament.  What  is  to  be  said  for  those 
who  believe  that  we  can  pin  our  hopes  for 
a  new  society  on  the  probability  of  a  gradual, 
ameliorative  evolution?  The  orthodox  liberals 
have  always  claimed  to  uphold  the  banners  of 
genuine  progress,  and  their  creed  means  that 
in  the  long  run  progress  is  written  in  the  nat- 
ural order  of  things,  and  that  whereas  tem- 
porary aberrations  may  deflect  the  movement 
toward  more  perfect  social  institutions,  the 
tendency  of  our  development  must  neverthe- 
less be  forward  and  upward.  The  liberals 
believe  that  our  civilization  is  in  essence  a  good 
one,  and  that  it  is  the  ultima  ratio  of  human 
activity  as  far  as  it  has  gone.  They  fear  the 
revolutionarj'^  method  partly  because  it  denies 
the  beneficence  of  the  gradual  processes  of 
change  and  partly  because  it  is  by  nature  catas- 
trophic. They  believe  theoretically  in  a  gen- 
uine human  solidarity;  but  unfortunately  when 
this  liberal  shibboleth  is  translated  into  politi- 
cal  language    it   means    little   more    than   a 


234    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

readiness  for  compromise.  Morally  speaking, 
liberal  solidarity  implies  a  temporary  acquies- 
cence in  the  evils  of  our  times  for  the  sake  of 
a  possible  realization,  at  some  future  date,  of 
justice  and  liberty.  Traditional  liberalism  has 
stood  theoretically  for  the  humanities :  that  has 

ft/ 

been  its  positive  position.  At  the  same  time  it 
has  "stood  for"  (in  the  sense  that  it  has  toler- 
ated) a  good  portion  of  the  inhumanities. 
Lord  Morley's  ineff ectualness,  as  Secretary  for 
India,  in  stopping  the  outrages  upon  liberal 
principles  practiced  by  his  subordinates  is  an 
excellent  example  of  liberalism  in  both  capaci- 
ties. Traditional  liberalism  has,  in  point  of 
fact,  tended  always  to  weaken  the  creative,  as 
well  as  the  destructive,  elements  of  life.  It 
has  achieved  a  sort  of  deadly  success  in  pal- 
liating the  egoistic  and  ruthless  aspects  of 
upper  class  capitalism  and  in  decently  cover- 
ing up  the  misery  and  depression  of  the  lower 
strata — veiling  the  whole  scheme  of  naked  ex- 
ploitation in  the  robes  of  "historic  necessity," 
"give  and  take,"  and  "abolition  of  violence." 
On  the  surface  liberalism  has  been  the  only 
philosophy  of  contemporary  political  thought 
which  was  free  from  the  egoism  of  the  two  con- 
flicting classes ;  it  appeared  to  be  the  only  one 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        235 

based  upon  such  considerations  as  moral  order, 
justice,  and  peaceful  development.  It  has  been 
the  hesitancy  of  liberalism  to  follow  a  frank, 
clear-cut,  forthright  policy  in  practice  that  has 
brought  about  its  failure.  The  result  of  this 
failure  is  not  merely  that  liberal  methods  have 
been  discredited  but  that  support  has  been 
given  to  the  fallacious  notion  that  ethical  prin- 
ciples themselves  are  of  little  moment  in  the 
practical  conduct  of  political  and  social  life. 
In  consequence  the  discontented  classes,  ob- 
serving the  failure  of  liberalism,  have  taken 
up  the  idea  of  dictatorial  power.  That  is  the 
most  obvious  outcome  of  the  debacle  of  liberal- 
ism, and  by  all  odds  it  is  the  most  important. 
The  responsibility  for  the  acceptance  of  Bol- 
shevism by  the  proletariat  throughout  the 
world  is  attached  to  this  failure. 

With  liberalism  unseated,  reaction  is  in  the 
saddle,  and  the  methods  of  reaction  are  domi- 
nant even  in  political  camps  where  its  aims  are 
suspected.  There  has,  in  fact,  taken  place  a 
strange  interchange  of  methods  between  the 
radical  and  the  reactionary.  While  the  aims 
and  final  ideals  of  radicalism  carry  with  them 
the  breath  of  a  new  life,  and  the  vision  of  a 
new  human  unity,   the   instruments  used   to 


236    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

make  them  effective  are  theoretically,  and  as 
the  Russian  Revolution  bears  witness,  practi- 
cally, the  same  methods  that  have  been  em- 
ployed by  all  the  governments  of  the  world. 
Now,  these  aims  will  never  bring  about  a  gen- 
uine revolution.  The  great  revolution  will 
come  only  when  violent  methods  are  repudia- 
ted and  the  same  results  are  achieved  by  meth- 
ods which  are  in  themselves  consonant  with  the 
purposes  of  the  revolution.  The  discovery  of 
this  new  path  to  a  revolutionary  goal  will  be 
a  real  revolution  indeed!  Without  it,  all  our 
attempts  are  spurious. 

Let  us  ask  ourselves  candidly  whether  a 
violent  upheaval  is  the  only  way  out  of  the 
present  impasse,  now  that  the  failure  of  liberal- 
ism is  acknowledged  beyond  dispute.  If  we 
are  to  make  a  successful  appraisal  of  the  pos- 
sibilities for  revolution  we  must  at  the  outset 
make  a  discrimination  between  two  kinds  of 
social  movement  which  we  call  by  the  same 
name.  One  kind  of  revolution  is  purely  politi- 
cal: its  ideals  are  republican,  or  rather,  par- 
liamentary; the  other  kind  is  industrial:  its 
prime  purpose  is  to  achieve  economic  freedom. 
The  Russian  Revolution  was  so  effective  so- 
cially and  industrially  because  it  was  not  ham- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        237 

pered  by  established  pseudo-democratic  insti- 
tutions and  because  it  did  not  make  the 
attainment  of  such  institutions  its  goal.  Rus- 
sia, as  is  notorious,  did  not  possess  a  parlia- 
ment; above  all  things,  Russia  did  not  possess 
a  parliamentary  tradition.  As  an  American 
once  defined  it,  Russia  was  a  parliamentary 
monarchy  with  an  autocratic  monarch.  The 
Russian  Revolution  accordingly  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  assuming  a  social  form;  for  the  forces 
of  the  revolution  flowed  naturally  into  social, 
rather  than  political  channels.  Its  violent  and 
drastic  quality  was  therefore,  in  certain  aspects, 
the  natural  outburst  of  forces  which  had  not 
spent  their  energy  in  meandering  through  the 
fields  of  conventional  politics.  This  accounts 
in  part  for  the  impetus  of  the  Soviet  idea. 

The  case  with  France  and  England  is  quite 
different,  and  even  a  cursory  survey  will  con- 
vince one  that  a  violent  revolution  is  little  short 
of  an  impossibility  in  either  country.  The  in- 
direct, parliamentary  tradition  is  too  well-de- 
veloped, and  the  spontaneous  ebullition  of 
social  forces,  such  as  took  place  in  Russia, 
would  speedily  dissipate  itself  if  indeed  it  could 
ever  burst  forth.  With  Italy  the  case  is  not  so 
clear,  because  the  proletarian  movement  on 


238    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

one  hand,  and  the  chauvinist  movement  on  the 
other,  have  both  to  some  extent  repudiated  the 
authority  of  the  monarchy  and  of  parhament; 
and  in  the  struggle  between  these  two  distinct 
and  antagonistic  sections  of  the  body  poHtic 
the  conservative  poHtical  institutions  may  sud- 
denly collapse.  England  and  France,  how- 
ever, have  developed  parliamentarianism  and 
state  unity  to  such  an  extent  that  a  revolution 
seems  altogether  out  of  the  question.  The  quar- 
rel between  the  parliamentarians  and  the  So- 
vietists  within  the  ranks  of  the  proletarians  is  in 
itself  disruptive  of  any  solid  movement  toward 
revolution.  Another  factor  which  will  prevent 
revolution  in  Western  Europe  is  the  strength 
and  influence  of  the  middle  classes.  The  social 
classes  within  the  modern  western  states  are 
not  split  into  two  plainly  opposed  camps  as 
was  the  case  in  the  last  Russian  and  the  first 
French  Revolution.  In  modern  Europe  the 
middle  classes  serve  as  ballast  which  keeps  the 
ship  of  state  upright  in  a  storm ;  and  so  long 
as  they  do  not  shift  when  the  ship  is  keeling 
over  no  upset  will  take  place.  The  position  of 
the  Russian  middle  class  was  anomalous.  Be- 
cause of  the  economic  oppression  of  Tsardom 
the  middle  class  in  Russia  had  become  revolu- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        239 

tionary  in  temper,  and  accordingly  the  first 
steps  taken  toward  revolution  by  the  prole- 
tarians were  aided  and  encouraged  by  the  mid- 
dle class,  which  cooperated  freely  in  the  first 
revolution,  at  least  in  its  early  stages.  The 
other  reason  that  the  middle  class  counted  for 
so  little  in  maintaining  the  old  order  was  that 
they  were  numerically  weak.  More  than  sev- 
enty per  cent  of  Russia's  population  were  peas- 
ants and  workers,  and  as  soon  as  the  revolution 
was  under  way  its  direction  remained  in  the 
hands  of  this  majority.  The  unorganized 
bourgeoisie  had  not  ballasted  the  old  regime; 
and  they  could  scarcely  produce  an  effect  upon 
the  new  order. 

The  place  of  the  middle  class  in  Western 
Europe  is  vastly  more  important  than  that  it 
occupied  in  Russia.  Socially  inactive  and  eco- 
nomically conservative,  the  middle  class  repre- 
sents that  large  part  of  the  population  which 
rejoices  in  these  characteristics,  and  the  ideas 
which  it  stands  for  above  all  others  are  those 
of  order  and  peace.  It  is  this  middle  class  that 
is  the  true  product  of  our  so-called  progress 
and  our  so-called  civilization  in  Europe.  It  is 
the  dead  center  of  our  whole  social  system.  So- 
cially it  is  the  medium  in  which  the  yeast  of 


240    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

capitalism  is  introduced,  for  the  ultimate  leav- 
ening of  the  whole  social  order.  The  middle 
class  has  been  educated  into  the  belief  that 
possession  and  property  are  the  final  goals  of 
human  effort,  and  that  happiness,  as  well  as 
the  highest  social  good,  consists  in  the  exten- 
sion of  one's  possessions  and  the  sanctification 
of  one's  property.  Admission  to  the  capitalist 
class  is  believed  by  the  bourgeoisie  to  be  the 
crown  of  human  achievement,  while  reduction 
to  the  level  of  the  working  class  is  regarded  as 
a  catastrophe  so  dreadful  that  no  scruple,  no 
sense  of  humanity,  no  love  of  justice,  must 
stand  in  the  way  of  avoiding  it.  So  implicitly 
has  the  middle  class  come  to  believe  in  these 
socially  inimical  doctrines  that  the  reign  of 
the  middle  class  is  the  real  terror  of  our  mod- 
ern culture,  and  the  most  pernicious  force  that 
has  worked,  and  is  working,  for  the  degrada- 
tion of  society.  The  great  enemy  of  a  genuine 
revolution  is  not  Capitalism  itself,  but  its  by- 
product, its  bastard  offspring,  the  middle  class ; 
and  as  long  as  the  middle  class  remains  intact 
in  Europe  a  revolution  is  not  possible. 

It  is  worth  while  to  pause  for  a  second  and 
reckon  a  little  more  fully  with  the  influence  of 
the  middle  class  and  with  the  standards  it  has 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        241 

erected;  for  it  would  be  as  foolish  to  lay  out 
a  plan  for  reconstruction  which  neglected  the 
middle  class  as  it  would  be  to  lay  out  the  plans 
for  a  new  city  and  neglect  the  swamp  which 
stood  undrained  in  the  midst  of  it.  The  very 
nature  of  our  plans  must  be  altered  so  that  we 
may  without  unnecessary  effort  abate  such  a 
nuisance.  The  ideals  of  the  middle  class  all 
grow  out  of  the  belief  that  the  good  life  con- 
sists simply  in  following  pleasure  and  avoid- 
ing pain,  and  that  the  chief  means  of  achieving 
this  happy  state  is  by  satisfying  the  possessive 
instincts  to  the  utmost,  just  as  though  the  high- 
est kind  of  organic  life  were  represented  by  the 
sort  of  creature  that  fastens  itself  to  a  shel- 
tered rock  in  the  ocean  and  by  avoiding  the 
risks  and  dangers  of  an  active  life  grows  pro- 
gressively fatter  and  more  comfortable  and 
more  replete  with  physical  satisfaction  until  at 
last  it  has  become  simply  a  mouth  and  a  food 
pouch.  To  rise  above  the  level  of  this  fixed, 
sessile,  comfortable,  and  thoroughly  degraded 
mode  of  existence  is  no  part  of  the  mission  of 
the  middle  class.  Social  stability,  with  its 
ensurance  of  an  unchallenged  position  and  a 
regular  income,  is  all  that  the  middle  class 
seeks  to  maintain,  and  it  sets  its  back  firmly 


242    Tlie  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

against  every  movement  which  challenges  its 
existence  or  which  threatens  to  remove  the  con- 
ventional foundations  upon  which  it  rests. 
Conformity  and  uniformity  are  its  ideals.  To 
comply  with  middle-class  standards,  in  other 
words,  and  to  extend  this  habit  of  compliance 
to  as  large  a  section  of  the  population  as  can 
be  reached,  are  the  chief  ends  of  a  bourgeois 
civilization. 

Materialism  demonstrated  a  certain  diabolic 
genius  in  creating  its  faithful  servant,  the  mid- 
dle class.  The  influence  of  our  materialistic 
ministers  of  progress  is  now  more  potent  by 
far  than  that  of  our  idealistic  dreamers,  and  it 
is  a  fine  irony  that  the  first  should  be  called 
the  upholders  of  law  and  order  and  the  second 
the  apostles  of  violence.  Spiritual  violence — 
the  ruthless  suppression  of  every  benevolent  in- 
stinct— is  the  very  soul  of  bourgeois  culture. 
The  rule  of  the  middle  class  is  nothing  less  than 
a  "dictatorship  of  the  propertariat."  While 
that  dictature  lasts  the  new  order  of  society  will 
remain  unborn. 

Now  in  the  face  of  the  increasing  moral  au- 
thority and  material  power  of  the  working 
classes,  the  proletariat  attempted  to  escape 
the  menace  from  within  the  state  by  creat- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        243 

ing  a  host  of  new  menaces  outside  the  state. 
It  sought  to  achieve  this  end  by  appropri- 
ating the  democratic  slogan  of  national  self- 
determination  and  turning  it  to  its  own 
especial  uses!  Thus  was  one  of  the  most  dread- 
ful crimes  in  history  lately  committed.  A  sin- 
gle glance  at  the  new  map  of  Europe  will 
amply  illustrate  its  details.  It  should  have 
been  clear  to  everyone,  even  to  the  "mean,  sen- 
sual man,"  that  the  war  to  end  war  was 
destined  to  usher  in  a  new  era.  W^at  the 
characteristics  of  that  era  were  to  be  was  some- 
thing whose  determination  rested  to  no  slight 
extent  on  the  terms  of  peace  and  the  sort  of 
economic  and  social  conditions  that  accompan- 
ied them.  The  choice  lay  roughly  between 
three  roads.  On  one  side  lay  the  road  that 
continued  us  along  the  lines  of  the  old  order: 
that  was  the  road  of  reaction.  On  the  other 
side  stretched  the  road  that  would  have  led  us 
in  a  new  direction  under  the  same  motive 
power  that  brought  us  to  an  impasse  on  the 
first  road:  this  was  the  path  of  violent  revolu- 
tion. Between  them  opened  the  third  alter- 
native ;  the  road  that  would  have  led  us  toward 
a  revolutionary  goal  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  socially  renovated  and  morally  solid- 


244    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

arized   society.     From  the   second  road  the 
propertariat  drew  back  in  hysterical  horror. 
The  third  possibihty   it  turned  aside   from, 
partly  in  ignorance,  partly  in  sloth,  and  partly 
because  it  made  demands  incompatible  with  the 
continuance  of  the  system  of  privilege  and 
property  upon  which  the  bourgeoisie  rested. 
The  propertariat  chose  the  worst  road  of  all, 
that  which  had  led  us  into  the  great  war,  and 
which  had  in  the  course  of  five  bitter  years 
accentuated  every  evil  that  existed  in  the  old 
political  system.    It  was  not  for  lack  of  warn- 
ing that  the  representatives  of  the  old  order 
played  fast  and  loose  with  the  principle  of  self- 
determination.    In  the  first  days  of  November, 
1918,  Karl  Kautsky,  dean  of  European  social- 
ist intellectuals,  published  a  series  of  articles 
analyzing  the  strategical  and  economic  situa- 
tion in  some  of  the  new  countries.    He  pointed 
out  incidentally  that  such  a  country  as  Czecho- 
slovakia, in  the  heart  of  Central  Europe,  would 
furnish  one  of  the  greatest  incentives  for  a 
new  war.     Surrounded  by  Germany,  Poland, 
and  Austria,  with  only  a  narrow  lane  of  com- 
munication between   its   two    parts,    Czecho- 
slovakia could  easily  be  cut  in  twain  during 
the  first  hour  of  a  national  conflict.    It  would 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        245 

be  unable  from  a  strategical  point  of  view  to 
defend  itself,  and  this  situation  would  be  a 
constant  temptation  to  her  neighbors  to  as- 
sume an  aggressive  attitude  toward  her.  No- 
body would  fear  her,  but  she  would  fear 
everybody.  She  would  be  afraid  of  her  ability 
to  maintain  her  national  independence,  eco- 
nomically and  strategically.  In  short,  Czecho- 
slovakia threatens  to  be  a  perpetual  sore-spot 
in  Europe,  and  only  a  statesmanship  that 
placed  the  dangers  of  national  warfare  lower 
in  the  scale  than  the  dangers  of  class  conflict 
would  ever  have  gone  to  the  lengths  of  creating 
an  independent  entity  out  of  a  country  whose 
position  as  a  state  is  so  indefensible.  The 
necessity  such  a  small  state  finds  in  having  to 
lean  upon  a  larger  one,  as  Poland  is  supposed 
to  lean  upon  France,  is  the  principle  character- 
istic of  this  diplomatic  arrangement,  and  it  is 
a  characteristic  which,  while  it  will  redound  to 
the  financial  and  military  benefit  of  the  greater 
power,  will  do  nothing  to  further  the  peace  of 
Europe  or  the  prosperity  of  the  underlying 
populations. 

The  specious  way  in  which  the  principle  of 
self-determination  was  employed  by  the  Great 
Powers  is  nowhere  more  evident  than  in  the 


246    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

case  of  Austria,  and  this  demonstrates  to  the 
hilt  the  faults  of  the  bourgeois  peace.    What 
respect  can  the  Austrian  working  class  have 
for  the  established  order  when,  despite  their 
demand  for  unity  with  Germany,  the  "princi- 
ple of  self-determination"  is  invoked  in  order 
to  make  them  work  out  their  salvation  in  ster- 
ile   independence.      With    an    industrial    life 
mainly  dependent  upon  the   Czechs,   among 
whom  the  chief  industries  of  the  old  Austro- 
Hungarian  empire  were  concentrated,  and  de- 
pendent mainly  upon  Hungary  and  Galicia 
for  supplies,  the  working  classes  of  Austria  are 
inevitably  bound  to  be  a  negligible  quantity 
in  the  future.     The  industrial  life  of  Hun- 
gary,   although    somewhat    more    developed 
through  war  activities,  is  likewise  not  strong 
enough  to  maintain  that  country  in  independ- 
ence, and  Hungary  will  be  compelled  to  "co- 
operate" with  those  Great  Powers  whose  secret 
covenants  will  have  all  the  force  of  public  laws. 
Unless  an  internal  victory  of  democracy  is 
achieved  in  the  belligerently  victorious  coun- 
tries all  the  small  nations  of  central  Europe — 
to   say  nothing   of  the   Near   East — will   be 
merely  colonies  of  the  Great  Powers,  whether 
avowedly  or  in  disguise.     Hungary  is  an  in- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        247 

stance  of  the  way  in  which  the  map  of  Europe 
will  be  withdrawn  on  a  moment's  notice.  The 
small  states  are  but  little  nuclei  which  may  be 
crushed  out  in  a  moment.  The  Balkan  States 
have  been  multiplied  by  the  peace  settlement, 
and  by  that  fact  the  number  of  international 
danger  points  have  been  correspondingly  in- 
creased. The  war  has  indeed  Balkanized  Eu- 
rope. In  this  condition  it  is  a  rich  field  for 
the  selfish  appetites  for  conquest  and  aggran- 
dizement and  exploitation  which  are  whetted  in 
the  capitals  of  Europe.  Is  this  not  the  most 
startling  exhibition  of  Bolshevism  that  the 
world  has  been  confronted  with?  Bolshevism 
perpetrated  in  the  name  of  "law  and  order"  is 
no  less  Bolshevism  than  when  it  is  practiced 
in  the  name  of  renovated  social  order.  Is  a 
crime  any  the  less  flagrant  because  it  is  com- 
mitted in  evening  dress  ? 

It  is  unfortunate,  however,  that  disillu- 
sionment with  the  principle  of  nationality 
should  have  gone  so  far.  The  explanation 
for  our  cvnical  aversion  to  nationalism  lies, 
of  course,  in  the  Bolshevism  of  Downing 
Street  and  the  Quai  d'Orsay.  The  interna- 
tional dictators  at  Versailles  did  not  differ  in 
method  from  that  British  Foreign  Secretary 


248    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

who,  a  few  hundred  years  ago,  sat  in  his  of- 
fice, surrounded  by  his  assistants,  calculating 
as  a  matter  of  pure  arithmetic  how  many  black 
people  could  be  transported  from  Africa  and 
sold  into  slavery  in  the  American  colonies. 
The  "big  three"  used  fine-sounding  terms, 
taken  impudently  from  science,  morals,  and 
religion,  to  justify  their  establishment  of  a 
ruthless  system  of  white  slavery  over  a  great 
part  of  Europe  and  Asia :  but  their  underlying 
purpose  was  as  base  as  that  which  was  the 
mainspring  of  black  slavery,  for  they  were  con- 
cerned, it  would  seem,  only  with  the  import- 
ance of  so  carving  up  the  new  states  that  their 
peoples  would  inevitably  quarrel  with  their 
neighbors  across  the  frontiers  and  so  forget 
those  who  were  their  real  masters  and  owners. 
The  old  abominable  principle.  Divide  and 
Rule,  was  written  in  almost  every  clause  of 
the  peace  treaty.  Even  a  dictatorship  of  the 
proletariat  will  hardly  break  down  the  pro- 
visions that  were  made  under  this  dispensation, 
and  instead  of  working  toward  new  issues  the 
proletariat  is  likely  to  drench  the  old  issues  in 
blood — to  the  great  joy  of  those  who  make  it 
their  business  to  divide  and  rule. 

The  prejudice  against  nationalism  is,  I  say. 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        249 

an  almost  inevitable  reaction  against  the  way 
nationalism  was  used  by  the  big  powers  to  pro- 
mote imperial  interests.  There  exists  a  feeling 
that  nationalism  is  a  strongly  disruptive  fac- 
tor; that  nationalism  and  internationalism  are 
conflicting  and  irreconcilable  forces;  and  that 
no  real  harmony  may  be  expected  until  one  or 
the  other  of  them  is  overthrown.  The  spokes- 
men of  bourgeois  democracy  claim  to  be  dyed- 
in-the-wool  nationalists:  above  all  things  they 
hold  themselves  patriots.  Therefore  these 
elder  statesmen  and  their  followers  assert  the 
right  to  crush  radicalism,  and  they  go  so  far 
as  to  make  nationalism  itself  synonymous  with 
anti-radicalism  and  internationalism  with  radi- 
calism, so  that  the  obligation  is  imposed  upon 
every  patriot  to  crush  the  two  latter  "isms"  at 
a  single  blow.  This  identification  of  national- 
ism with  the  forces  of  reaction  is  popular  not 
merely  among  the  reactionaries  themselves  but 
also  to  some  extent  with  the  liberals.  It  seems 
to  many  radicals,  liberals,  and  Socialists  im- 
possible to  reconcile  their  plans  for  the  devel- 
opment of  a  sound  economic  and  social  world 
order  with  the  demands  of  national  culture.  I 
believe  that  both  the  reactionaries  and  the  radi- 
cals that  are  committed  to  this  point  of  view 


250    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

are  mistaken;  although  the  reactionaries  have 
utihzed  the  error  to  serve  their  special  politi- 
cal and  economic  interests,  whereas  the  radicals 
have  nothing  to  gain  by  blinding  themselves  to 
the  true  position  of  things.  Beyond  doubt  the 
sort  of  nationalism  that  was  provoked  by  the 
war  is  antagonistic  to  internationalism :  indeed 
it  is  inimical  to  any  generous  scheme  of  human 
culture.  What  was  called  nationalism  during 
the  war  period  was  nothing  more  than  the  bare 
expression  of  our  brute  instincts:  fear  and 
anger  and  self-assertion  and  the  impulse  to 
stampede  with  the  herd  were  its  chief  ingredi- 
ents. When  the  national  combat  ceased,  how- 
ever, and  civil  strife  took  the  place  of  military 
strife  the  finer  aspect  of  nationalism  came  to 
the  surface,  and  as  I  have  already  noted  in 
the  Chapter  on  Revolution  it  was  those  very 
groups  that  were  committed  to  a  thorough- 
going international  working-class  program  that 
proved  staunchest  to  the  ideals  of  a  genuine 
nationalism.  Even  during  the  war  in  Russia 
treason  against  the  country  was  confined  to 
the  highest  circles  of  the  court,  and  the  most 
pro-German  elements  were  those  who  were  os- 
tensibly most  pro-Russian.  And  during  the 
critical  period  of  the  revolution  the  case  be- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        251 

came  even  more  plain.  It  was  the  Russian 
radical  that  showed  himself  the  nationalist;  it 
was  the  patriotic  Cadet  that  deserted  Keren- 
sky  when  his  government  was  toppling,  and  it 
was  the  bourgeoisie  that  was  prepared  to  sacri- 
fice his  country's  welfare  with  the  aid  of  mili- 
tary forces  from  England  and  France.  Again, 
when  Hungary  had  to  be  saved  and  her  na- 
tional independence  protected  from  the  vora- 
cious, appetites  of  the  statesmen  at  Versailles 
and  their  Balkan  agents.  Count  Karolyi  was 
helpless  and  gave  up  his  power  to  the  extreme 
internationalists,  led  by  Bela  Kun.  If  one 
compares  the  messages  of  Bela  Kun  to  Lenin 
and  to  the  Supreme  Council  at  Versailles  with 
the  diplomatic  notes  sent  by  Clemenceau  to 
Germany  or  the  brutal  reply  to  Germanj'^  about 
the  liberation  of  her  war  prisoners  one  cannot 
doubt  which  of  the  two  is  more  deeply  imbued 
with  the  spirit  of  cooperation  based  upon  na- 
tional dignity.  Bela  Kun  speaks  in  the  mood 
of  a  temperate  and  humane  nationalist ;  Clem- 
enceau in  that  of  a  bellicose  and  aggressive 
imperialist.  There  is  no  reason  either  in  logic 
or  history,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  which  should 
cause  the  radical  to  fear  striking  root  in  the 
deepest  national  soil;  it  is  out  of  the  proper 


252    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

cultivation  of  our  several  national  cultures  that 
a  true  internationalism  will  eventually  flower. 
Official  nationalism,  with  its  ruthless  competi- 
tion, its  widespread  exploitation  of  resources, 
its  centralized  financial  control,  its  disregard  of 
any  end  except  profit,  is  the  disintegrating 
force  against  which  the  true  nationalist  must 
fight,  and  in  the  endeavor  to  curb  international 
capitalism  the  radical  can  perform  a  service 
both  to  the  cause  he  openly  loves — that  of  hu- 
mane internationalism — and  to  the  cause  he 
still  distrusts,  that  of  nationalism.  The  present 
alignment  of  forces  is  misleading  and  destruc- 
tive of  effort,  and  a  new  alignment  must  as  soon ' 
as  possible  be  effected. 

How  shall  we  escape  from  the  maelstrom  of 
our  time?  The  values  we  have  created  in  cul- 
ture and  science,  the  Yery  lives  of  peoples  and 
nations,  are  in  danger,  and  unless  we  can  find 
succour  our  whole  civilization  is  in  danger  of 
going  under.  There  seems  no  other  recourse 
but  to  throw  the  lines  to  labor.  We  must  put 
our  trust  in  those  groups  which  have  no  long 
tradition  of  hatred,  chicanery,  double-dealing, 
and  diplomatic  fraud,  and  which  have,  on  the 
contrary,  a  distinct  personal  realization  of  the 
unbearableness   of  suppression  and  violence. 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        253 

The  suppressed  but  not  smothered  voice  of 
labor  is  the  only  one  that  has  a  right  to  be 
heard  in  the  present  crisis.     It  is  the  only- 
group  that  is  potentially  capable  of  making  a 
creative  contribution  to  the  problems  of  world 
reconstruction.     In  admitting  this  we  are  not 
following  the  doctrinaire  counsels  of  Lenin  and 
Trotzky.     The  modern  capitalist  himself  feels 
the  force  of  this  new  social  element.    The  idea 
of  reconstruction  was  born  first  of  all  within 
the  ranks  of  the  economic  experts  and  business 
men  of  Europe.     These  gentlemen  even  went 
so  far  as  to  give  labor  an  opportunity  to  func- 
tion under  the  auspices  of  the  League  of  Gov- 
ernments.    They  were  ready  to  listen  to  the 
voice  of  labor  in  the  halls  of  the  future  League. 
What  this   benevolent   interest   in   the   labor 
movement  means  when  reckoned  up  in  terms  of 
tangible  assets  and  goods  it  is  a  little  difficult 
to  discern.     The  old  men  at  Versailles,  being 
experts  at  abusing  words  and  perverting  their 
meanings,  as  their  treatment  of  the  principle 
of  national  self-determination  so  violently  wit- 
nesses, reduced  the  ideas  of  reconstruction  and 
labor  participation  to  facts  which  bore  no  re- 
semblance to  their  original  features.     They 
could  hardly  be  expected  to  do  otherwise,  for 


254    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

they  went  so  far  as  to  abuse  the  words  Christ 
uttered  when  he  walked,  lonely  and  sad,  in  the 
mountains  and  over  the  desert  of  Judea,  suf- 
fering with  his  people,  crushed  as  they  were 
under  the  iron  heel  of  the  Roman  Empire ;  and 
seeing  no  way  out  in  the  theories  of  life  as  pre- 
sented by  the  Pharisees,  he  discovered  anew  light 
in  a  new  life  somewhere  else.  He  thought  that 
unless  we  were  all  enlightened  by  the  same  God 
who  was  in  us  and  around  us,  and  not  en- 
throned somewhere  in  a  hidden  heaven,  there 
was  no  use  in  shouting  and  in  political  cam- 
paigns; and  so  he  said:  "Render  unto  Csesar 
the  things  that  are  Csesar's,  and  unto  God  the 
things  that  are  God's."  These  words  were 
used,  as  were  many  other  words  of  Christ,  as 
a  justification  for  the  Cassars  of  this  world  who 
considered  all  things  theirs.  Submit  to  the 
power  of  the  Caesars  and  become  slaves  in  the 
name  of  God ! 

Labor  will,  no  doubt,  be  given  a  seat  in  the 
diplomatic  councils.  In  the  parliaments,  too, 
a  place  will  be  cleared  for  it.  For  without 
labor  it  will  be  impossible  to  utilize  expediti- 
ously for  military  purposes  the  workers  who 
are  sent  to  "give  help,  financially,  economic- 
ally, and  politically,  to  the  weak  and  small  na- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        255 

tions"  through  the  simple  diplomatic  method  of 
wrecking  the  financial  system  of  the  succoured 
country  and  breaking  down  its  political  struc- 
ture. The  ruling  classes,  since  they  cannot 
govern  without  the  assistance  of  labor,  are  con- 
centrating their  energies  now  on  the  problem 
of  turning  this  situation  to  their  own  advan- 
tage. They  are  willing  to  put  the  strings  of 
authority  into  labor's  hands  as  long  as  they  are 
able  to  control  the  hands.  How  could  they 
assume  any  other  attitude  toward  labor  when 
for  a  hundred  years  our  whole  thought  on  the 
subject  had  been  based  on  such  humanly  in- 
sufficient ideas  as  those  of  efficiency  and  pro- 
duction ?  According  to  the  regnant  philosophy 
the  laboring  man  was  a  cow,  and  his  value  was 
the  amount  of  milk  he  produced.  The  hospi- 
tals, the  social  welfare  organizations,  the 
amusements  that  were  provided  for  labor  were 
all  aimed  at  helping  the  workman — to  workT 
But  the  laboring  man  is  neither  a  cow  nor  a 
machine.  He  is  something  more.  And  no  sys- 
tem of  society  will  be  tolerable  until  it  realizes 
that  this  "something  more"  is  its  whole  excuse 
for  existing. 

What  is  really  valuable,  for  instance,  in  the 
Russian  peasant,  or  the  Russian  workman  on 


256    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

the  banks  of  the  Volga?  The  amount  of  mus- 
cular energy  he  possesses,  or  the  Maxim  Gorky 
who  emerged  so  suddenly  from  the  dark 
masses  of  that  people  ?  And  how  many  Maxim 
Gorkys  are  lost  throughout  the  world  on  the 
banks  of  rivers  and  in  the  power  rooms  of  fac- 
tories! Neither  the  spiritual  nor  the  ethical 
energy  of  a  man  is  taken  into  consideration 
now  when  we  say  labor.  The  sin  is  not  limited, 
we  have  to  confess,  to  those  who  are  professedly 
at  one  with  capitalism.  It  is  characteristic  of 
many  labor  leaders  who  think  in  terms  of 
Marxian  materialism.  The  ethical  value  of 
labor  is  forgotten.  The  human  value  of  what 
is  produced  by  a  man  has  been  overlooked  and 
our  life  has  become  so  materialistic,  the  con- 
tent of  it  has  been  deprived  to  such  a  large  ex- 
tent of  moral  values,  that  we  have  begun  to 
think  that  no  moral  values  exist.  But  the 
Nemesis  of  history  has  never  slept,  and  we  are 
reminded  of  it  in  a  cruel  way,  by  wars  and  revo- 
lutions and  Bolshevisms. 

The  need  for  reconstruction  is  universally 
acknowledged.  Nobody  denies  that  a  funda- 
mental remodelling  of  our  economic  and  indus- 
trial system  is  part  of  the  order  of  the  day,  but 
in  all  the  prolix  discussions  of  reconstruction 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        257 

no  one  seems  concerned  with  analyzing  the  rea- 
sons that  underhe  this  need.  It  is  generally- 
admitted  that  the  war  has  cost  too  much,  that 
the  disorganization  of  our  industrial  system  has 
gone  too  far,  and  that  a  more  effective  social 
order  must  be  established.  While  no  oh j  ections 
can  be  offered  against  this  view  I  must  never- 
theless insist  that  the  most  important  thing  is 
to  ascertain  what  reconstruction  means  and 
what  should  be  its  immediate  aim.  The  res- 
toration of  the  wealth  of  nations  which  was 
destroyed  on  the  battlefields  of  Europe  is  no 
adequate  goal  of  achievement.  If  reconstruc- 
tion means  the  reorganization  of  production  so 
that  we  may  relapse  into  the  old  ways  and 
continue  in  our  "normal"  life — and  during  the 
last  few  years  war  became  almost  a  normal 
attribute  of  our  life — then  we  had  better  not 
have  any  reconstruction  and  our  every-day 
needs  had  better  increase  and  our  resources  de- 
crease until  we  have  a  general  enough  collapse 
to  stop  the  reign  of  blood.  But  we  are  not  apt 
to  acknowledge  that  we  desire  reconstruction  in 
order  to  ensure  our  ability  to  carry  on  more 
wars. 

It  is  necessary  now  to  remake  the  world  for 
two  reasons.     First,  to  bring  into  the  active 


258    Tlie  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

political  life  of  society  new  elements  and  new 
members  who,  if  they  do  not  possess  the  train- 
ing of  the  old  statesmen,  do  possess  the  compre- 
hension of  suffering  and  the  understanding  of 
what  present-day  society  is  and  what  no  so- 
ciety should  be.  Second,  in  order  to  solidarize 
the  hitherto  conflicting  groups  in  such  a  way 
that  the  possibility  of  continuing  wars  and  of 
engendering  new  ones  will  be  reduced  to  a  mini- 
mum, if  not  destroyed. 

Now  it  is  little  better  than  a  truism  to  say 
that  no  work  of  reconstruction  is  possible  with- 
out real  political  freedom,  real  democracy,  and 
not  the  democracy  about  which  so  much  has 
been  written  and  of  which  so  little  has  been  seen 
and  felt.  But  political  democracy  now  means 
something  more  than  the  reestablishment  of 
constitutional  guarantees  which  were  abolished 
legally  or  illegally  during  the  war.  It  means 
that  the  world  has  to  reconstruct  itself  politi- 
cally before  it  can  bring  into  life  a  new  social 
order.  As  long  as  monarchs  rule  there  will  be 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  social  reforms.  A  mon- 
archy, besides  the  fact  that  it  is  a  survival  of 
personified  feudalism,  contains  in  itself  many 
corrupting  elements  which  hinder  society  from 
attaining  normal  development.    The  world  was 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        259 

happy  to  see  the  monarchies  of  the  Central 
Powers  fall.  It  understood  that  even  with  the 
utmost  degree  of  parhamentarism  a  monarch 
who  occupied  a  throne  without  any  other  right 
than  the  generally  recognized  tradition  of  his 
having  been  born  in  the  family  of  its  preced- 
ing occupant,  must  be  the  cause  of  mental  and 
moral  slavery.  A  nation  can  be  great  and  crea- 
tive without  possessing  a  luxurious  and  expen- 
sive imperial  court.  A  man  whose  health, 
happiness,  and  caprices  exist  as  a  result  of  the 
exploitation  of  many  thousands  of  people  who 
are  called  sub j  ects  represents  something  which 
is  more  immoral  and  more  terrible  than  the 
older  and  more  open  institution  of  slavery.  In 
old  times  we  had  at  least  the  advantage  of 
seeing  things  as  they  were.  ^Vhen  society  saw 
itself,  its  defects,  in  the  light  of  its  duties  and 
obligations,  it  revolted  and  abolished  that  phase 
of  the  exploitation  of  human  beings  by  other 
human  beings;  but  the  modern  civilized  slave 
owner,  with  all  his  embellishments,  disguises  the 
institution  behind  an  elegant  mask  and  sug- 
gests the  false  idea  that  he  is  the  symbol  of 
the  greatness  of  his  people.  The  result  is  that 
society  exists  not  because  its  own  bonds  of 
unity  are  strong  but  because  it  is  ruled  by  a 


260    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

man  who  has  an  army  of  military  and  civil 
slaves  who  guard  his  interests  and  who  sup- 
press any  attempts  at  advance  or  progress.  A 
monarch  creates  a  great  army  of  the  privileged 
who  are,  so  to  speak,  the  high  court  valets  of 
his  majesty.  Under  such  conditions  we  have 
not  only  the  two  struggling  classes  of  workers 
and  idlers :  we  have  also  a  class  of  high  f eudals 
who  are  called  by  another  name  than  that  used 
in  the  eighteenth  century,  but  who,  with  their 
benevolent  philanthropic  policies  maintain  the 
spirit  of  slavery  and  submission  in  the  heart  of 
the  nation,  and  they  corrupt  not  only  the  peo- 
ple of  their  own  nation  but  those  of  others  who 
have  long  ago  rid  themselves  of  their  own 
majesties  and  princes.  Is  it  not  striking  that 
not  only  bourgeois  France  with  her  traditions 
and  ambitions  of  the  Second  Empire  tried  to 
imitate  the  grandeur  of  the  few  remaining  mon- 
archs  of  Europe,  but  that  even  such  an  original 
democracy  as  the  repubhc  of  the  United  States 
could  not  be  completely  independent  at  the 
peace  conference  in  Versailles,  but  had  also  to 
make  obeisance  to  the  majesties  represented 
there.  It  seems  that  the  worthies  there  as- 
sembled believed  that  if  they  did  but  meet, 
shake  hands,  change  their  full  dress  costumes 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        261 

or  uniforms  twice  or  thrice  a  day,  nothing  more 
would  be  needed  to  make  the  world  safe  for 
democracy. 

The  Congress  of  Vienna  in  1814  was  famous 
because  of  its  wonderful  statesmanship,  when 
the  Holy  Alliance  was  formed  to  the  sound  of 
music  in  the  Schonbrunn  Palace  at  Vienna, 
and  Metternich  and  Prince  Gortchakov  or 
Alexander  the  First  and  the  international  liar 
Talle}Tand  danced  and  drank  together.  A 
hundred  and  five  years  passed,  and  what  was 
changed?  First  the  place.  Instead  of  Vienna 
we  have  Paris  and  instead  of  the  Schonbrunn 
Palace  we  have  the  Palace  of  Versailles.  In- 
stead of  marble  halls  we  have  a  hall  of  mirrors. 
But  how  was  a  protesting  and  suffering  world 
made  happier  or  freer  by  the  treaty  signed 
by  old  men  in  the  hall  of  mirrors,  amid 
the  tinkling  of  fountains,  with  the  ghost  of 
Louis  XIV  perhaps  whispering  in  the  air. 
Doubtless  they  enjoyed  their  surroundings, 
but  in  the  meantime  hundreds  of  peaceful  Hin- 
dus and  Egyptians  were  being  shot  do^vn  by 
machine  guns  and  having  bombs  dropped  on 
their  quiet  homes  from  aeroplanes,  far  from  the 
whispering  fountains  and  the  hall  of  mirrors. 

As  long  as  monarchs  exist  it  will  be  impos- 


262    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

sible  to  abolish  the  privileges  and  the  servile 
devotion  to  princes  who  express  in  their  sacred 
persons  the  prestige  of  a  nation.  Social  free- 
dom and  social  democracy  are  impossible  of  at- 
tainment, because  the  privileged  groups  sur- 
rounding the  monarchs  are  the  active  leaders 
of  the  state,  and  must  inevitably  be  so.  They 
have  their  agents  and  spies.  They  represent 
the  spirit  of  militarism,  no  matter  whether 
based  on  compulsory  conscription  or  on  volun- 
tary enlistment.  The  absence  of  compulsory 
conscription  in  England  early  in  the  war  did 
not  prevent  that  country  from  having  a  great 
share  in  its  battles  and  from  procuring  the 
lion's  share  of  the  spoils.  As  long  as  a  man  is 
dressed  in  a  uniform  and  looks  down  on  his 
nation  from  above,  never  having  been  below, 
no  reconstruction  of  his  nation  is  possible. 

I  cannot  forget  the  impressions  I  got  when 
I  visited  the  Tsar's  palace  after  the  revolution. 
Putting  aside  the  special  Tsaristic  qualities  of 
Nicholas,  he  differed  very  little  from  any  other 
king  or  monarch.  Wealth  beyond  estimate 
was  spent  in  the  hundreds  of  halls  and  brilliant 
ballrooms.  It  seemed  to  me  that  from  every 
corner  of  the  immense  winter  palace,  from 
every  brilliant  light,  and  on  every  precious  and 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        263 

wonderful  and  rare  object  there  were  ghosts, 
ghosts  of  lives  lost  and  souls  tortured,  souls  sac- 
rificed for  this  stupid  display  of  grandeur. 
Never  did  I  realize  the  humbleness  and  stupid- 
ity of  people  and  their  real  unhappiness  as 
when  I  visited  the  prisoner  of  the  Russian 
Revolution  at  Tsarskoye  Seloe,  Colonel  Nicho- 
las Romanoff.  Seeing  his  dull,  cruel  eyes,  his 
plain,  ordinary  face,  I  thought  how  weak,  how 
stupid,  and  how  poor  in  spirit  is  a  people  who 
permits  its  nation  to  be  ruled  by  a  man, — any 
man, — a  man  who  reads  the  words  written  by 
others  and  calls  them  his  own ;  who,  in  spite  of 
his  ignorance  and  weakness,  was  permitted  to 
send  millions  of  the  sons  of  his  people  to  death 
on  a  battlefield.  What  is  the  value,  I  asked 
myself,  of  our  philosophies,  our  sciences,  our 
universities,  our  attainments,  when  we  are  sim- 
ply slaves  and  when  we  permit  ourselves  to  be 
slaves  of  a  man  born  in  a  golden  bed,  brought 
up  in  idleness?  I  remembered  how  a  few 
years  before  the  war  Russia  had  been  in  a 
tremendous  excitement  over  a  new  organiza- 
tion of  school  boys,  who  were  formed  in  mili- 
tary regiments,  something  like  Boy  Scouts.  In 
all  the  schools  the  boys  were  compelled  to  sub- 
mit to  military  training  and  to  march  in  the 


264    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

streets  in  military  formation,  and  after  a  year 
of  this  noble  preparatory  work  the  boys  were 
sent  by  thousands  to  Petrograd  where  they 
were  reviewed  by  His  Majesty  and  His  High- 
ness, the  nine-year-old  son  of  His  Majesty. 
These  boys,  "the  hope  of  our  future,"  were 
supposed  to  be  happy  because  they  were  al- 
lowed to  carry  rifles,  real  rifles. 

And  all  this  because  of  a  childish  caprice  of 
the  little  Highness.  He  complained  that  his 
father  had  a  great  army  of  big  soldiers  and 
that  he,  too,  wanted  an  army  of  little  soldiers, 
so  the  kind  paternal  heart  gave  the  son  an  army 
of  little  soldiers.  But  the  point  is  that  afl  this 
was  considered  as  the  last  word  in  educational 
achievements,  and  approved  from  a  political, 
national,  moral,  and  patriotic  point  of  view. 
How  many  millions  were  spent,  how  much  time 
wasted — and  for  what ! 

Does  it  not  remind  one  of  the  two  sons  of 
the  English  king,  George  the  Fifth,  who  are 
now  acting  as  the  commercial  travelers  of  Eng- 
Hsh  Imperialism,  and  carrying  sample  cases 
of  "international  friendship"?  The  heir  to  the 
British  throne  is  a  "wonderful  youth."  He 
said,  it  was  reported  by  the  most  respectable 
papers,  that  American  girls  are  very  nice  girls. 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        265 

He  is  so  highly  talented  that  when,  having 
been  impressed  and  almost  overwhelmed  by  the 
courteous  reception  accorded  him  by  American 
officials,  he  was  moved  to  express  his  gratifi- 
cation in  an  extemporaneous  speech  he  had  to 
refer  to  his  prepared  manuscript  only  three 
times.  (This  is  almost  literally  the  report  of 
a  New  York  newspaper.) 

The  other  and  younger  son  went  to  Persia 
and  brought  the  Persian  Shah  to  London,  thus 
consummating  in  a  "friendly"  way  a  most 
shameful  "agreement"  which  deprives  Persia 
of  any  kind  of  independence — and  all  this  not 
even  under  the  auspices  of  the  League  of  Na- 
tions, but  only  because  of  the  friendship  and 
devoted  love  between  the  Persian  and  English 
people ! 

At  a  time  when  the  world  is  exhausted  with 
war;  when  there  is  no  house  and  no  family  in 
all  Europe  which  has  not  lost  a  member  in  the 
war  does  it  not  sound  shameful,  ridiculous,  to 
read  of  the  wonderful  achievements  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales  in  America?  Among  all  these 
there  is  one  that  is  really  characteristic.  The 
Prince,  so  was  it  reported,  unlike  his  father, 
who  is  very  much  interested  in  postage  stamps, 
is  especially  ardent  about  walking  sticks,  of 


266    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

which  he  has  collected  more  than  fifty,  all  of 
which  are  carried  about  wherever  the  Prince 
goes,  by  one  of  the  Colonels  of  his  staff,  so  that 
if  the  royal  heir  chooses  to  change  his  stick 
when  he  alights  from  his  car  he  may  do  so. 

So  long  as  this  kind  of  vaudeville  perform- 
ance, this  opera  bouffe,  lasts  in  Europe  there 
can  never  be  any  reconstruction  of  Europe  as 
a  whole. 

The  capitalist  classes  take  refuge  in  these 
monarchical  remnants  in  Europe  and  under 
their  international  and  political  protection 
hope  to  maintain  the  old  order.  Their  hopes 
are  vain.  Indeed,  beneath  their  attempt  to 
keep  old  privileges  lies  their  awareness  that 
radical  changes  must  be  made,  that  a  way  for 
labor  must  be  opened ;  and  they  are  organizing 
hundreds  of  committees  and  societies  for  eco- 
nomic investigation  and  for  a  peaceful  and 
gradual  solution  of  the  situation  which  has 
already  wrecked  Europe.  So  far  they  have 
found  no  plan  or  project  which  has  construc- 
tive or  creative  features,  for  they  have  limited 
themselves  to  the  problem  of  making  men  work 
more  effectively  now  that  economic  values  have 
been  destroyed  on  the  battlefields.  And  in  the 
other  camp,  that  of  labor,  there  is  a  fear,  a 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        267 

hesitancy  as  to  what  is  to  be  done,  and  the 
leaders  lack  both  audacity  in  action  and  a  clear 
comprehension  of  facts.  On  the  other  hand 
there  is  a  general  current  of  thought  which 
sees  the  elimination  of  all  evils  in  the  nationali- 
zation of  the  primary  industries  of  the  state, 
such  as  coal  mines  and  railroads.  It  seems  to 
me  that  this  latter  view  is  a  mistake,  both  from 
the  standpoint  of  labor  tactics  and  from  that 
of  the  final  aims  of  labor.  Nationalization 
gives  too  many  resources  and  too  great  power 
to  the  state  as  such,  giving  greater  weight  and 
importance  to  the  very  institution  which  proved 
fatal  during  the  last  three-quarters  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  The  already  overwhelming 
power  of  the  state  was  one  of  the  causes  of  our 
moral  and  political  collapse,  and  by  means  of 
nationalization  we  shall  only  make  stronger  the 
forces  which  have  already  proved  so  dangerous. 
The  idea  of  nationalization  seems  to  have  a  psy- 
chological attraction,  because  it  gives  the  il- 
lusion that  the  men  who  work  in  a  nationalized 
industry  are  liberated  from  the  exploitation  of 
private  owners;  and  because  the  stubborn  re- 
sistance of  the  private  owners  increases  the  sup- 
posed value  of  that  reform  in  the  minds  of  the 
working  people.    But  it  seems  to  me  a  mistake. 


268    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

We  must  not  forget  that  in  1917  a  league  of 
nations  was  advocated  hj  labor  elements 
throughout  the  world.  The  league  of  nations 
was  a  dream  and  an  ideal  of  the  trades  unions 
and  of  the  Socialist  party.  But  the  financial 
and  industrial  aristocracy  objected  to  it,  denied 
the  value  of  it — and  afterwards  showed  their 
flexibilit)^  and  their  business  genius  and  have 
made  of  the  league  of  nations  a  League  of  Na- 
tions, Inc.,  a  trust  company  of  the  world's  busi- 
ness men!  Now  the  labor  of  the  world  objects 
to  the  league  of  nations  while  the  capitalist  class 
defends  and  upholds  it. 

This  flexibility  and  business  genius  cannot 
be  overlooked  now.  It  is  just  as  likely  to  turn 
the  nationalization  of  industry  into  a  tool  for 
its  own  interests  as  it  has  already  made  of  the 
league  of  nations  a  valuable  weapon.  The  only 
difference  is  that  under  the  control  of  the  gov- 
ernment the  financiers  will  not  have  the  respon- 
sibilities they  had  before,  owning  industry 
themselves,  and  on  the  one  hand  the  govern- 
ment will  be  dependent  upon  their  money,  and 
on  the  other  they  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
satisfying  the  demands  of  labor,  procuring 
markets,  or  finding  raw  material.  It  will  then 
be  too  late  for  the  laboring  classes  to  protest 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        269 

because  they  will  have  to  fight  against  the  gov- 
ernment itself,  and  by  that  time  the  latter  will 
be  so  stabilized  by  the  reorganization  of  the 
class  alliances  of  the  capitalist  classes  that  the 
worker  will  be  able  to  gain  nothing  by  protest. 
How  then  can  society  recover  from  its  dis- 
ease ?  We  want  an  illuminating  idea,  and  that 
idea  is  in  the  decentralization  of  the  state.  Due 
to  wartime  conditions  the  Russian  Revolution, 
in  pre-Bolshevist  days,  could  accomplsh  very 
little,  but  it  did  accomplish  enough  to  furnish 
some  ground  for  judgment  of  the  value  of  that 
idea  and  of  the  main  tendencies  of  the  different 
classes.  My  experiences  in  the  Ministry  of 
Labor  taught  me  that  nothing  is  so  attractive 
to  the  capitalist  owner  as  nationalization. 
Even  when  the  state  does  not  plan  it  they  urge 
it  themselves.  Then,  after  the  revolution,  we 
were  confronted  with  the  needs  of  the  workers 
who  were  disorganized  to  the  last  degree  with 
strikes,  we  were  constantly  besieged  by  owners 
of  various  industries  who  came  to  us  for  finan- 
cial help,  asserting  that  unless  we  gave  them 
money  to  conduct  their  industries  they  would 
be  unable  to  meet  the  wage  demands  of  their 
employees,  and  when  the  government  refused 
to  meet  their  demands  they  begged  us  to  "take 


270    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

over  our  factories."  In  some  cases  they  did 
not  even  ask  any  compensation, — having  al- 
ready assured  themselves  of  future  ease  and 
comfort  by  their  enormous  profiteering.  When 
the  burden  of  the  owners  becomes  too  great  to 
bear  they  will  place  it  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
state. 

One  thing  which  really  appeared  during  the 
revolution — and  it  seems  to  me  a  vital  and 
fundamental  thing — was  labor  control,  the  real 
participation  of  the  working  man  in  the  admin- 
istration of  the  industry.  In  some  factories  of 
the  textile  industry  in  Russia  this  system  was 
applied,  and  in  spite  of  the  short  time,  the  ex- 
periment showed  evidence  of  good  results.  The 
owner  and  the  general  administrators  of  the 
factory  worked  together  with  the  factory  com- 
mittee and  neither  profiteering  nor  strikes  were 
possible.  We  hear  now,  especially  from  Ger- 
many, that  there  are  no  objections  to  sharing 
with  labor  the  control  of  the  profits.  They 
hope  that  the  efficiency  of  the  industry  will  in- 
crease, while  the  laboring  man  will  see  for  him- 
self the  limitations  of  the  industry  and  will  not 
make  exaggerated  demands.  They  hope,  as 
they  did  in  Russia,  that  the  ignorance  of  labor 
will  be  no  match  for  the  sophistication  of  the 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        271 

owners  and  managers,  and  that  they  can  hide 
some  share  of  the  profits  and  retain  their  se- 
crets of  management.  Therefore  even  labor 
control  requires  some  qualifications  and  modi- 
fications. 

The  Trade  Union  must  be  considered  not 
only  as  a  workers'  organization  but  as  the  main 
organism  and  body  of  labor  control.  It  is  not 
sufficient  to  have  a  workers'  committee  organ- 
ized of  representatives  of  the  workers  in  a 
factory,  but  certain  representatives  of  the  labor 
unions  themselves  must  be  a  part  of  the  shop 
committee.  We  had  organized  in  Russia  so- 
called  "Chambers  of  Reconciliation,"  some- 
thing like  the  arbitration  boards  (except  that 
they  were  permanent)  in  this  country.  These 
bodies  were  made  up  of  representatives  of  the 
different  trade  unions,  local  and  national,  and 
the  representatives  of  capital.  The  state,  as 
represented  by  the  ministry  of  labor,  had  no 
right  to  interfere  with  the  disputes  of  capital 
and  labor  except  in  an  advisory  capacity,  and 
its  advice  could  be  accepted  or  rejected  at  will. 
If  labor  would  make  the  sharing  of  control  an 
issue  of  its  campaign  it  could  compel  the  gov- 
ernments to  stand  absolutely  aside  and  to  have 
no  right  of  interference,  and  its  voice  would  be 


272    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

more  effective  than  through  any  schemes  of 
nationalization,  or  any  governmental  regula- 
tion of  the  relations  between  capital  and  labor. 
It  is  certain  that  such  a  reorganization  of  in- 
dustrial relations  must  be  very  painful,  that  the 
state  and  society  as  a  whole  will  suffer  very 
much  from  the  controversies  that  will  arise  at 
first,  due  to  the  stubborn  resistance  of  both 
sides,  but  this  fight  combined  with  the  policy  of 
strikes  as  an  economic  and  political  issue  will 
paralyze  both  the  attempt  of  the  state  to  in- 
terfere and  the  resistance  of  the  owners.  Only 
by  these  methods  can  anything  be  attained 
without  giving  undue  emphasis  to  either. 
The  increasing  power  of  labor  will  increase 
labor's  consciousness  of  responsibility.  And 
when  labor  is  sufficiently  well-apprised  of  its 
task,  when  it  has  discovered  both  the  defects 
of  the  present  state  system  and  the  uselessness 
of  such  reforms  as  are  based  upon  the  continu- 
ance of  the  state  system,  it  will  prepare  our 
industrial  machinery  for  a  new  form  of  organi- 
zation. It  is  too  early,  of  course,  to  describe 
precisely  the  characteristics  of  this  renovated 
industrial  mechanism :  but  I  risk  the  prediction 
that  it  will  take  the  form  of  a  widespread 
municipalization  of  industries,  working  toward 


Consequences  and  Possibilities       273 

the  voluntary  federation  of  those  enterprises 
that  are  inter-regional  in  scope,  instead  of  the 
wholesale   system   of   "block"   nationalization 
that  has  for  so  long  been  the  goal  of  "progres- 
sive" thinkers,  both  Socialist  and  non-Socialist. 
The  present  state  maintains  municipal  bodies 
as  subordinate  members  of  its  administrative 
system:  it  permits  the  city  to  exercise  the  bare 
minimum  of  functions  necessary  to  its  exist- 
ence, and  it  has  arrogantly  assumed  that  the 
right  to  local  self-government  can  be  dispensed 
or  withheld  by  the  state.    This  weakness  of  our 
municipalities  is  the  result  of  a  series  of  his- 
toric accidents  which  favored  state  concentra- 
tion at  the  expense  of  local  interests,  and  sub- 
stituted the  system  of  centralism  for  that  of 
voluntary  federation.    With  the  rise  of  labor 
and  the  removal  of  the  breach  between  the  gov- 
ernors and  the  governed  the  necessity  for  main- 
taining the  absolute  supremacy  of  the  state  will 
be  removed :  and  we  may  accordingly  look  for- 
ward to  a  growth  of  autonomy  by  municipali- 
ties, as  well  as  the  corresponding  increase  in 
vigor  in  other  voluntary  cooperative  associa- 
tions. 

The  main  guiding  idea  in  economic  organiza- 
tion should  be  the  thought  that  industry  be- 


274    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

longs  to  society,  and  not  to  the  state,  to  the 
community  and  not  to  the  government.  The 
necessity  for  a  genuine  and  continuously 
operative  labor  control  does  not  seem  to  me  to 
require  an  elaborate  explanation,  nor  need  the 
reasons  for  it  be  supported  by  intricate  ap- 
peals to  philosophic  and  moral  principles.  It 
is  clear  that  objections  raised  by  the  capitalist 
on  the  score  that  labor  is  not  the  creative  ele- 
ment in  industry,  but  only  the  productive  one, 
and  that  therefore  labor  cannot  pretend  to  par- 
ticipate in  functions  peculiar  to  the  enter- 
preneur,  who  is  the  "brains  of  the  business," 
can  be  met  even  by  the  weakest  of  economists 
and  the  most  limited  of  philosophers.  Argu- 
ments based  on  these  grounds  are  only  popular 
repetitions  of  those  twin  parents  of  capitalist 
ideology,  David  Ricardo  and  Samuel  Smiles, 
both  of  whom  sanctimoniously  crowned  the 
self-made  man  without  taking  into  consider- 
ation the  glaring  moral  fact  that  the  self-made 
man's  fortunes  were  based  on  a  systematic  sac- 
rifice of  the  blood  and  the  tissue  and  the  energy 
and  the  vital  impulses  of  the  lower  classes. 
Those  who  oppose  labor  control  are  doubtless 
a  little  nearer  to  reality  when  they  assert  that 
labor  is  economically  and  culturally  not  pre- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        275 

pared  to  assume  the  tremendous  burden  of 
controlling  and  regulating  such  a  huge  and 
complicated,  and  withal  delicate,  mechanism  as 
present-day  economic  society.  They  are  right 
when  they  say  that  labor  is  ignorant :  but  who 
has  made  the  laborer  the  "hand"  that  he  is: 
who  has  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  his  brains? 
Is  the  working  man  ignorant  because  a  dull 
brain  is  his  ideal,  or  because  capitalist  society 
has  acted  as  though  to  keep  a  laborer  in  ignor- 
ance were  the  only  means  of  keeping  him  at 
work?  Does  the  working  man  remain  without 
intellectual  resources  because  he  can  conceive 
of  no  better  occupation  than  those  few  mo- 
tions of  the  hand  which  make  him  so  service- 
able, for  example,  as  a  cog  in  a  chain  process 
at  a  Ford  plant,  or  because  his  body,  his  brain, 
and  his  soul  have  been  limited  to  these  motions 
and  hy  these  motions  in  the  pursuit  of  his  daily 
bread  ? 

The  abolition  of  our  twentieth  century  slav- 
ery, even  though  it  cannot  be  attained  without 
some  temporary  disorder,  will  have  something 
better  than  a  negative  value.  Freedom  does 
not  consist  simply  in  the  absence  of  chains :  its 
influence  is  active  and  positive  and  creative: 
and  the  chief  result  of  industrial  freedom  will 


276    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

be  a  widespread  efflorescence  of  cultural  forces 
that  have  long  been  dorman4;  and  suppressed. 
The  new  age  will  be  an  age  of  cultural  libera- 
tion; and  this  means  at  the  same  time  that  it 
will  be  an  age  of  cultural  reconstruction.  The 
priests  and  acolytes  of  the  old  order  have  pre- 
served a  peculiar  view  of  culture.  They  seem 
to  believe  that  art,  beauty,  science,  and  philoso- 
phy are  things  that  belong  by  eminent  right 
only  to  those  who  were  so  fortunate  as  to  be 
born  several  blocks  away  from  the  smutty 
drudgeries  and  necessities  of  the  factory.  Cul- 
ture, according  to  those  who  express  this  view, 
whether  they  belong  to  the  university  or  the 
banking  house,  rests  upon  idleness :  and  in  con- 
sequence the  privilege  of  being  idle  is  the  high- 
est attainment  of  civilization!  Culture  is  but 
the  decoration,  the  embroidery,  the  transparent 
but  useless  veil  which  covers  the  activities  of  a 
society  whose  highest  aim  is  to  have  no  activity. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  a  revolutionist  like 
Lunacharsky,  the  Bolshevist  commissar  of  edu- 
cation, resents  all  this  so-called  culture  and 
bitterly  condemns  the  civilization  that  has  pro- 
duced it.  Having  traveled  through  Europe 
and  seen  the  great  monuments  of  Vienna, 
Paris,  and  Rome,  and  having  come  in  contact 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        277 

with  the  cultured  hfe  of  the  great  capitals, 
Lunacharsky  is  prepared  to  deny  the  creative 
value  of  bourgeois  culture,  from  top  to  bot- 
tom, and  so  he  dreams  of  creating  a  new  one 
which  he  calls  proletarian  culture.    Decidedly 
Lunacharsky  is  too  extreme  in  his  reaction. 
He  is  too  close  to  the  revolution,  and  he  ex- 
aggerates the  difference  between  art  created 
for  the  bourgeoisie  and  art  created  for  the  pro- 
letariat under  the  impression  that  the  first  kind 
was  created  by  the  bourgeoisie  and  that  the 
second  will  be  produced  by  the  proletariat. 
This  assumption  of  his  will  not  stand  criti- 
cism, and  yet  the  feeling  behind  it  is  sound  and 
just.     It  is  true  that  the  products  of  art  and 
science  arise  out  of  the  whole  community  and 
in    turn    tend    to    diffuse    their    advantages 
throughout  the  whole  community:   but  it  is 
likewise  historically  a  fact  that  our  cultural 
achievements  have  been  monopolized  for  cen- 
turies  by   a   single   economic   class,   and  the 
standards  of  culture  have  therefore  become  cor- 
respondingly debased  and  weakened.     In  the 
course  of  this  long  and  pernicious  monopoly 
the  right  of  access  to  our  great  common  human 
heritage  was  lost  by  the  great  mass  of  people, 
and  thus  there  arose  in  the  bourgeoisie  the  con- 


278    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

ception  that  a  certain  elect  and  self -selected 
group  rose  in  this  world,  ordained  to  guard  its 
cultural  heritage,  and  that  the  interests  of  this 
group  were  identical  with  the  interests  of  those 
who  held  vested  interests  in  property  and  privi- 
lege. Thus  one  of  the  great  reasons  for  re- 
fusing to  give  up  these  vested  interests  was  the 
necessity  for  protecting  culture  against  the 
attack  of  vandals  surging  up  from  the  working 
classes  below!  The  false  and  malicious  char- 
acter of  this  theory  does  not  have  to  be  pointed 
out :  it  has  only  to  be  stated  to  be  condemned. 
It  is  in  reaction  against  the  bourgeois  notion 
of  a  peculiar  culture  with  a  peculiar  class  to 
guard  it  that  the  idea  of  a  proletarian  culture 
arose.  But  from  the  standpoint  of  the  artist 
both  conceptions  are  false.  Our  culture  is  a 
unity,  as  wide  as  humanity  and  as  deep  as  life. 
When  the  labor  man  enters,  as  he  rightfully 
will  and  must,  the  old  temples  of  beauty  and 
knowledge  which  have  so  long  been  guarded 
from  his  profane  feet,  he  will  not,  it  seems  to 
me,  create  anything  new  in  culture  itself.  He 
will  only  bring  back  to  it  those  characteristics 
it  has  suffered  by  losing — freedom,  and  crea- 
tion, and  a  perpetual  intercourse  with  the  great 
world  outside. 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        279 

Francis  Bacon  used  to  say  that  whatever 
kind  of  governments  may  exist  or  whatever 
kind  of  systems,  there  was  always  a  field  where 
only  one  system  exists,  and  the  name  of  the 
system  was  freedom  and  of  the  field,  science. 
Were  he  witness  to  our  times  he  would  prob- 
ably have  to  confess  that  the  field  of  knowledge 
has  lost  its  freedom,  too.    Among  the  remain- 
ing problems  of  the  day  it  seems  to  me  that  no 
problem  is  so  important  and  so  pressing  as  that 
of  education.    The  doors  must  be  opened  ^dde 
for  labor  education.    We  have  to  give  up  the 
old  conception  that  it  is  enough  to  teach  a  man 
to  read  and  to  write  and  to  make  a  few  arith- 
metical calculations,  before  society  sends  him 
to  the  factory  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  life 
in  a  depressed  routine.    We  need  not  fear  di- 
minished production  if  we  allot  the  worker  as 
much  time  as  he  needs  for  learning.     In  fact 
decreased  production  is  not  the  fault  of  the 
idleness  or  laziness  of  the  working  man  and  he 
should  not  be  made  to  pay  for  it.    Production 
has  decreased  because  the  working  man  was 
sent  out  to  die  on  the  battlefields  in  that  patri- 
otic sport  called  war.     Have  we  the  right  to 
ask  these  same  masses,  deprived  of  their  youth 
— for  there  is  very  little  youth  left  in  Eu- 


280    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

rope — to  pay  for  our  sins  and  crimes?  It  is 
already  vaguely  dawning  upon  us  that  no  in- 
creased production  will  be  sufficient  to  bring 
us  out  of  the  impasse  into  which  we  have 
come. 

There  was  some  consideration  given,  in  the 
first  period  of  the  Russian  Revolution,  to  the 
introduction  of  universal  compulsory  work, 
which  is  absolutely  different  from  that  which  is 
created  by  the  Soviets  under  the  name  of  indus- 
trial armies.  That  same  idea  is  now  being  dis- 
cussed in  Germany.  It  sounds  a  little  startling, 
perhaps,  but  is  it  more  cruel  than  compulsory 
military  conscription?  If  we  utilized,  for  in- 
stance, the  amount  of  energy  wasted  in  sports 
— not  in  idleness — ^would  we  not  have  a  tremen- 
dous fund  of  energy  which  could  be  used  for 
production  ?  That  is  why  Tolstoy  was  violently 
opposed  to  any  kind  of  sports;  he  considered 
them  a  substitute  for  work  and  a  kind  of  dis- 
traction of  the  social  sense.  He  protested 
against  horse-racing  and  even  physical  train- 
ing, advising  instead  real  work  in  the  fields, 
and  in  the  factories.  He  himself  used  to 
saw  wood  and  to  work  with  the  plough, 
and  claimed  that  in  this  kind  of  work  he 
was  not  only  obtaining  the  pleasure  of  train- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        281 

ing  and  exercising  his  body  but  that  he  was 
also  cooperating  with  the  people  and  pro- 
ducing things  of  value.  He  asserted  that  as  a 
man  works  and  produces  he  understands  better 
what  labor  means  and  what  it  costs.  And  it 
would  be,  from  the  educational  and  from  the 
social  point  of  view,  more  valuable  were  the 
system  of  education  so  arranged  that  not  only 
students  of  engineering  had  to  pass  a  certain 
time  in  factories  in  order  to  learn  the  technical 
needs  of  their  profession,  but  that  students  of 
philosophy  and  economics  should  spend  their 
time  not  in  g^^mnastic  exercises  but  in  factories 
and  in  the  fields.  That  was  the  idea  which 
filled  the  minds  of  the  Russian  intellectuals 
since  the  70's  of  the  nineteenth  century;  and 
during  the  war  the  Russian  youths  used  to 
leave  their  homes  and  schools  and  go,  sometimes 
two  or  three  thousand  miles,  to  work  in  the 
fields  with  the  peasant  women  whose  husbands 
were  at  the  front.  But  that  was  only  an 
emergency.  Our  educational  system  would 
really  deserve  its  name  were  such  a  course  made 
a  part  of  the  regular  curriculum. 

It  is  difficult  in  these  davs  of  unrest,  hatred 
and  enmity,  to  see  any  way  to  stimulate  a  re- 
juvenation of  life.    We  were  probably  bound 


282    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

either  to  make  conjectures  or  else  to  apply  the 
theory  of  Henri  Bergson.  In  his  latest  book, 
"L'energie  Spirituelle,"  he  says:  "Our  old 
philosophers  assert  that  before  we  can  find  a 
solution  we  have  to  know  how  to  find  it.  We 
must  discuss  the  knowledge  we  have,  and  criti- 
size  our  critics,  and  only  when  we  know  the 
value  of  our  instrument  will  we  be  able  to  use 
it.  Alas!"  he  says,  "such  a  time  will  never 
come. 

"I  see  only  one  way  to  know  how  far  we  can 
proceed,  and  that  is  to  proceed  as  far  as  we 
can,  to  march  onward.  If  the  knowledge  which 
we  are  seeking  is  real  and  instructive  and  is  yet 
hidden  from  us  all  the  preliminary  analyses  of 
our  thought  will  be  able  to  show  us  only  the 
impossibility  of  going  as  far  as  we  want,  be- 
cause we  studied  our  thought  before  we  ob- 
tained the  knowledge  and  experience  we  are 
aspiring  towards." 

The  only  way  to  go  anywhere  is  to  go  ahead. 
We  must  have  faith  in  our  ability  to  get  to  our 
destination  before  we  attempt  to  discover  it. 
It  is  the  impetus,  the  urge  to  go  onward,  to 
experiment  and  to  perfect,  that  will  bring  us 
into  a  new  age :  we  shall  not  draw  a  step  nearer 
our  goal  whilst  we  dispute  about  the  relative 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        283 

merits  of  equally  static  social  ideals.  Our  main 
concern  must  be  to  see  that  the  direction  of 
our  vital  impetus  is  toward  a  life  more  abund- 
ant, in  the  direction,  that  is  to  say,  of  the  crea- 
tive activities  of  peace ;  rather  than  toward  that 
widespread  desolation  and  destruction  to  which 
we  were  being  driven  during  the  generation 
that  brought  on  the  war.  One  thing  has  be- 
come incontestably  clear  to  us :  we  see  now  what 
war  means  and  what  the  war  animus  can  do 
to  our  lives.  We  know  the  "educational" 
power  of  war  for  what  it  is.  We  realize  that 
war  brings  about  chauvinism  instead  of  na- 
tionalism; accentuated  group  egotism  instead 
of  reconciliation ;  reaction  instead  of  progress ; 
autocracy  instead  of  democracy — and  all  this 
irrespective  of  which  side  may  be  "right"  and 
which  army  victorious.  Unless  we  can  root 
these  terrible  consequences  of  war  out  of  our 
minds,  unless  we  can  purge  our  hearts  of  all 
the  brutalities  and  morbidities  that  the  war  se- 
creted, there  is  no  possibility  to  making  any 
fundamental  adjustments  either  in  industry  or 
education  or  in  any  other  phase  of  our  social 
life. 

Our  hopes  for  a  new  life  are  conditional 
upon  our  ability  to  assume  an  attitude  of  in- 


284    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

transigent  denial  to  the  institution  of  war.  We 
must  cultivate  a  militant  pacifism  which  will 
refuse  altogether  to  compromise  upon  the  es- 
sential issue  of  war  and  peace.  We  must  real- 
ize that  no  decent  future  can  be  derived  from 
a  peace  that  is  half-heartedly  maintained  until 
it  is  interrupted  by  a  war  that  is  half-heartedly 
supported.  Let  us  be  prepared  to  recognize 
that  the  Russian  theory  of  defeatism  is  perhaps 
the  most  healthy  and  noble  idea  with  which 
war  can  be  met.  Unless  we  are  ready  to  be 
defeated,  unless  we  are  ready  to  sacrifice  our 
lives  for  peace  instead  of  sacrificing  them  in 
the  trenches  we  will  be  unable  to  put  an  end 
to  the  bellicose  imperialisms  which  threaten 
perpetually  to  over-run  the  world  and  to  make 
orderly  social  relations  and  creative  scientific 
and  artistic  activities  impossible.  There  is  no 
use  finding  formulas,  points,  covenants,  and 
the  like  which  would  make  war  acceptable  by 
throwing  a  veil  of  polite  phrase  in  front  of  the 
curtain  of  blood  which  hangs  over  the  battle- 
field. These  phrases  are  at  their  best  but  ra- 
tionalizations which  tend  to  obscure  the  naked 
operation  of  our  brute  instincts,  and  which 
perpetuate  by  mechanical  means  a  belligerent 
mood  long  after  the  instinct  itself  has  been  sat- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        285 

isfied  and  the  emotion  that  attended  it  has  been 
exhausted. 

The  next  generation  will  find  that  the  task 
of  getting  rid  of  the  consequences  of  the  war, 
and  preventing  new  wars  from  being  precipi- 
tated, will  exhaust  a  lifetime  of  its  energies. 
Whether  the  governments  of  to-day  will  re- 
main in  power,  whether  they  will  be  replaced 
by  better  or  worse  ones,  is  still  uncertain.  It 
is  beyond  our  ability  to  predict  the  posture  of 
affairs  in  the  near  future :  the  variables  are  too 
complicated  and  no  formula  that  can  be  de- 
rived from  either  mathematics  or  sociology  is 
capable  of  handling  them,  for  all  that  Henry 
Adams  adduces  to  the  contrary  in  his  post- 
humous volume  on  "The  Degradation  of  the 
Democratic  Dogma."  What  will  happen  is  un- 
certain; but  what  should  happen  is  plain,  and 
if  the  moral  imperative  is  taken  sufficiently  to 
heart,  if  we  plan  our  lives  and  map  out  our 
activities  in  view  of  it,  the  "should"  will  tend 
to  be  translated  into  an  accomplished  fact. 
One  thing,  then,  humanity  can  and  must  do: 
it  must  take  out  of  the  hands  of  our  rulers  the 
main  tool  by  which  they  have  worked  such 
wholesale  havoc  and  destruction — the  tool  of 
war.    So  long  as  they  retain  possession  of  this 


286    The  Passing  of  the  Old  Order  in  Europe 

tool  the  best  will  in  the  world  will  not  move  us 
in  the  direction  of  a  new  social  order:  human- 
ity will  be  as  incapable  of  achieving  a  noble  life 
as  a  prisoner  in  ball  and  chains  is  of  dancing. 
We  have  already  seen  that  it  is  a  mistake  to 
think  that  we  can  get  rid  of  violence  by  pohti- 
cal  and  social  revolutions.     There  remains  al- 
ways the  door  by  which  civilized  man  escapes 
and  organizes  his  forces  for  a  new  attack.    It 
was  so  in  the  eighteenth  century,  at  the  time  of 
the  first  French  Revolution.    It  was  so  in  the 
revolution  of  1830  and  still  later  in  1848.    And 
it  will  be  so  in  the  future  unless  we  concentrate 
all  our  forces  on  a  new  revolution  against  war, 
on  undermining  all  the  war  orders  and  erasing 
all  the  war  slogans  and  counteracting  all  the 
war  moods,  so  that  we  may  clear  the  ground  of 
iron  and  barbed  wire  and  concrete  and  shrap- 
nel and  prepare  the  field  of  social  effort  for 
the  new  crops  that  are  to  follow.     It  is  true 
that  the  new  order  will  not  be  able  to  emerge 
without  pain,  without  sacrifice,  without  death ; 
but  it  is  not  less  imperative  that  we  should  learn 
to  bear  without  flinching  the  pangs  and  diffi- 
culties of  this  more  beneficent  war,  which  will 
be  fought  without  declaration,  without  tanks 
and  machine  guns,  without  rifles  and  gas.    Per- 


Consequences  and  Possibilities        287 

haps  in  hazarding  the  risks  of  a  new  order  we 
shall  encounter  death.  Let  us  not  be  daunted. 
Such  a  death  is  always  the  beginning  of  vic- 
tory, and  such  a  war  is  neither  criminal  nor  in- 
famous. 

THE  END 


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